Not Without A Fight
by Annaleise Marie
Summary: Emmett McCarty just moved to Forks, and he's thoroughly unimpressed. Until he meets Rosalie Hale. He decides to use his smoothest moves on her, but now she's unimpressed. If he wants her, he'll have to fight for her. AU/AH canon pairings / slight crackfic
1. Round One

**Not Without a Fight  
**Annaleise Marie

**Summary**: Emmett McCarty is new to Forks, and he's thoroughly unimpressed. Having moved around all of his life, Forks High seems like the very worst of the typical small-town high schools. That is, until he meets Rosalie Hale. He immediately puts his smoothest moves to use, but now it's her turn to be unimpressed. If he wants her, he's going to have to work for it. Canon pairings.

**Round One**

**AN**: Just a little something I'm writing for fun, since my other story is getting into more serious territories. :D Hope you enjoy it!

---

Off-white walls, metal lockers, the sharp smell of dry erase markers, ugly speckled tile. Every time I moved, these elements remained the same. Off-white walls, metal lockers, the sharp smell of dry erase markers, ugly speckled tile. The familiarity used to comfort me, but that wore off sometime in middle school, and now it was monotonous, boring. As it was, this was the sixth time I had changed high schools.

For a moment, I missed my last school. In Fort Meade, Maryland, I blended in well with the military brats. Temporary friends for temporary people. Nothing was expected of you; people didn't delude themselves with ideas of "friends forever". They were friendly enough, but expected nothing of anyone. Few people stuck around for more than three years; some were re-stationed within months.

I wasn't really a military kid, myself. My mother was forever trying to find a place where she could "put down roots". Which was all well and good, but she planted us somewhere new every eight months or so, so it didn't really work. It wasn't like that before my dad died when I was in fifth grade. Really, I think she's trying to outrun his memory, but this familiarity follows her, as well. When you've seen enough places, they all start to look the same. I try not to analyze her motives too closely, though. It's not like it will do me any good.

So far, the town of Forks, Washington, was not proving promising. I was hoping Mom would tire of it quickly. _However_, I thought as I turned my head to watch two girls, a blonde and a brunette, wander by, _these small towns seem to house some of the nicest tail in the world_. I was a sucker for old-fashioned unspoiled perfection, and girls in these towns were closer to it than the city girls, with their high-end salons and readily-available plastic surgery.

That's right. Emmett Fucking McCarty, damned philosophical bastard, and ladies' man extraordinaire. These bitches won't know what hit them.

---

For a tiny school, Forks High is confusing as shit. Where the hell is room E12? There are only two hallways, and the sign to my left points to Hall A, while the one on my right points to Hall B. What the fuck kind of joke is this?

I turned back around and made my way to the office, where I had just been given this stupid, nonsensical schedule. Happily, I fell in stride behind a tall blonde girl, with legs up-to-here and the single nicest ass I had ever seen in my life. It was an extremely nice view, and I thanked whatever god that may be listening for that damned stupid schedule, otherwise I may have missed this.

I followed her into the office and continued watching her ass sway as she walked behind the desk, sitting her bag down against the wall and then turning to sit down.

Well send me to prison and make me Bubba's bitch. This girl's front was even better than her back. Which was a relief. When I got her into bed, I wouldn't have to waste time convincing her to do it doggy-style so that I don't have to look at her face.

As gay as it sounds, this girl had the face of a fucking angel. An angry fucking angel. It was like my existence annoyed her. Or, it could be the fact that I was no staring at her fucking perfect chest, imagining what it would feel like to grab it, to tease and suck her nipples, to hear her moan my name. Because oh yes, she would be moaning my name. There was no doubt in my mind. I'm just that fucking good.

But back to the angry face. Even that was perfect, and suddenly the images in my head were much, much dirtier. This bitch looked like she could handle some serious shit. And deal it out, as well.

"Can I help you?" she asked, and I bit back one of my usual panty-melting answers because her tone clearly expressed that she had no interest in actually helping me with anything. Yet.

"I was wondering if there was a mistake with this schedule?" I asked, holding it out to her and throwing her my signature adorable, dimpled, wouldn't-hurt-a-fucking-fly-in-a-brick-shithouse smile. Girls usually ate that shit up.

Not her, apparently.

"I seriously doubt it. Those schedules go through the guidance counselors, the principal, and each teacher, through the computer, and then printed out. It's not like we make it up off the top of our heads and scribble it on a post-it," she said, looking bored and not bothering to take the schedule from me.

"Okay," I said. Bitch. "That's all well and good, but there's no Hall E, and this says—"

"Is there not?" she asked, her eyes wide. "That's strange. I could've sworn my locker was there this morning."

"Okay," I said _again_. Bitch. "But I can't find it, I can only find A and B. I haven't seen C, D, or E."

"Well, there is no C or D."

I really needed a cigarette if I was going to be expected to deal with this shit.

"... What?" I asked.

"Did I stutter?" she snapped.

"You know, you are very rude," I said. And I had every intention of fucking that right out of her. She'd be eating out of my palm by next week. There was nothing I enjoyed more than the ones that needed to be tamed.

"You know, I was aware of that," she said. "I've just never cared."

"Sure," I said, breathing deeply and then placing the smile back on my face. "Well, if you're not going to explain it, could you show me where it is?" _So that I can watch that amazing ass again_, I added in my head.

"Bella," she said, swiveling in her chair and addressing a girl that I hadn't noticed before, sitting at another desk, transcribing information into the computer, by the looks of it. "Do you want to show Emmett where Hall E is?"

"Have we met?" I asked, surprised that she knew my name.

"Thankfully, no," she said. "You're in Forks now. You'd better get used to everyone knowing you."

"I'll keep that in mind," I said, smiling once more. "I'll see you very soon," I added with a wink as the girl named Bella stood up and looked at me expectantly.

"Don't threaten me," the blonde answered. I followed Bella out of the office, laughing the whole way.

"Don't mind Rosalie," Bella said once we were out in the hall. "She's not really friendly to anyone at first."

"I don't mind," I said truthfully and she shot me a skeptical look. "It makes life more interesting."

"Yeah, well, in Forks you're going to need something to keep you interested. It's pretty dull here," she said, pushing open one of the heavy glass doors that led to the back courtyard, and turning on a walkway that led to the right. There was a separate building there, and it was this building that she led me to. "So where are you from?" she asked.

"Most recently, Maryland," I said. "But I was born in Tennessee, and lived there until I was eleven."

"You've come quite a long way to live in such a boring place," she observed, opening the door to the new building and leading me in.

"I've been all over the place. It doesn't really matter where I am. I won't be there long," I said. She nodded. I wasn't sure if she didn't know what to say, if she thought it would be too intrusive to ask for more information, or if she simply didn't care. After a few moments, she stopped in front of a classroom and nodded to it.

"Here's you class," she said.

"Thanks," I said. "See you later."

"Yeah. Have a good day," she said with a small smile before turning on her heel and heading back down the hallway as I ducked into the classroom.

The reaction was the same every time I went into my first class in a new school. Everything seems to stop as every head turns my way, and then the whispering starts. People wondering who the new kid is, people trading rumors they had already heard, people swapping opinions. It never changes.

I handed the slip that the office had given me with my schedule to the teacher and looked around for a seat. The only one that was open was in the back, next to a boy with curly blonde hair. He was wearing a tee shirt with some obscure band name printed across it and had a cowboy hat resting over his face, his head thrown back. Ten minutes into class, and he was already asleep.

Sounds like someone finally had their priorities straight.

I made my way to the back of the class, sure to ever-so-slightly brush my arm against that of the petite girl sitting in the chair in front of mine, throwing her a small smile. She bristled and I swear I saw the blonde guy twitch a little in his sleep at that same moment and for the love of God I think he growled a little. Growled? What was that shit? The girl let out a quiet laugh. This was a strange place.

Five minutes later, I became aware that someone was watching me. I felt it, that foreboding, hair-raising sixth sense that tells you someone's there and you didn't know it.

I looked over to see the blonde guy looking at me, the cowboy hat now resting casually on his head. He looked pissed. Fuck, what was it with the people in this town. Was there something in the water or something?

"You touched Alice?" he asked slowly, his eyes narrowing. I stared at him blankly. Who the fuck was Alice? He leaned over closer to me and whispered, "Of course you know that you have to die now."

What. The fuck. Cigarette. Fucking. Now. Clearly I was having auditory hallucinations from nicotine withdraw (which was obviously possible), because people just didn't really say shit like that for something that could be passed off as an accident, did they?

"Jazz, calm down," a cheerful voice chimed in and I turned away from the guy, against my better judgment, to find the girl in front of me, twisted in her seat to speak to him. He leaned back to sit upright in his seat but continued to glare at me.

"I'm Alice Brandon," the girl said cheerfully. "And that moody guy over there is Jasper Hale. He's really not that bad, he just wants to seem scary. You must be Emmett McCarty."

"Yeah," I said, shaking the hand that she extended to me. She had a stronger grip than I expected. Much stronger. Painfully stronger. I actually fucking winced.

"Nice to meet you, Emmett," she said and then pulled me by my arm to lean over my desk so that her mouth could hover near my ear. "Please don't ever touch me without my permission again," she said softly. I heard Jasper snort out a short laugh before reclining back in his chair and once more placing his hat over his face. I got a closer look at the band name on his shirt. The Pistolas.

"Who are The Pistolas?" I asked. I was a self-proclaimed audiophile, and I had never heard of them.

"Do not ask such blasphemous questions," Jasper commanded lazily from under his hat.

"Really, I wouldn't waste time wondering about it. He'll wear other shirts that will just fuck your mind in half," Alice answered, grinning. "Save your question tokens for then."

"Question tokens?"

"I only put up with two stupid questions from people a day," was Jasper's reply.

"And you?" I asked, raising my eyebrows at Alice. She smiled.

'I have an all-day pass," she said. "Hey Jazz, are you eating lunch with me today?"

"Of course, darlin'," he said calmly.

"Hey Jazz, who are The Pistolas?"

"A British band, kind of sounds like Hot Hot Heat doing Clash covers. Except, you know, not Clash covers."

"Hey Jazz, am I talking too much?"

"Of course not, darlin'."

"Hey Jazz, are you trying to sleep?"

"Just resting my eyes," he said.

"So," Alice said, turning to me. "How are you enjoying Forks?"

"I've only been here like a half hour, and I've already gotten lost once, encountered the bitchiest girl in the world, and a cowboy wants to kick my ass for brushing against his girlfriend," I said. "All in all, a pretty interesting day."

"I'm not that bitchy," Alice said calmly. "I just believe in personal space."

"I'm not talking about you," I said. "I'm talking about this girl in the office, when I was trying to figure out where this hall was."

Jasper chuckled softly. "Is he talking about Rosalie, darlin'?" he asked.

"Probably. I've never heard anyone call Bella bitchy," Alice answered as Jasper swept his hat once more off of his face, sitting up and looking at me intently.

"And what did you think of Rosalie?" he asked, his eyes locking onto mine. For a guy maybe half of my size, he was pretty scary. It seemed like a trick question.

"That... is hard to say," I said, choosing my words carefully. His face spread into a grin.

"You'd tap that, right?" he asked quietly.

"Jazz!" Alice broke in, giving him a dark look.

"Well?" Jasper asked, ignoring her.

"Well, yeah, I'm not stupid," I said honestly. "I mean, she's hot as hell." Jasper chuckled and shook his head. "What?" I added, afraid that he was suddenly going to tell me that Rosalie was really a man with a very convincing boob job. I mean, I hadn't gotten to thoroughly inspect her yet, after all. It was entirely possible.

"Oh, I was just thinking that you are clearly _very_ stupid," he said right before the bell rang and he stood up, leaving the room quickly. Alice rushed after him, yelling goodbye over her shoulder.

What the hell was that?

Clearly, everyone in this town was on crack.

---

The rest of the day passed without incident. The remainder of my classes were in the building and therefore easy to find. The classes were something of a joke compared to Fort Meade, I spent lunch thoroughly avoiding Jasper Hale and keeping an eye out for Rosalie, who never made an appearance, and then it was time to go. I hurried out to the parking lot, climbing into my Jeep and slamming the door, digging around in the center console for my cigarettes and lighter.

When I finally had one lit and my chest was starting to relax from where it had tightened from the cravings, I sat back and watched the student body slowly filter out into the parking lot and the bus line. And there she was. The queen bitch herself. Rosalie. She was heading to her car, a bright red BMW. How very flashy.

And who was with her? None other than Jasper Fucking Hale.

Oh shit.

Looking at them now, it was clear.

The two of them were siblings.

I felt like beating my head against the steering wheel, but well, that would just add to the series of smooth moves I have apparently already made today.

Jasper looked over at me for a second and then said something to Rosalie, who turned to look at me as well, smirking.

Well shit. I didn't know what that meant, but for now I was going to be operating on game-on-mother-fucker mode.

---

**AN**: A clarification that I couldn't like, easily fit into the chapter: Rosalie and Bella do not work at the school. At my school, we had these students who spent class periods as "administrative assistants". Basically, they collected a bogus A for running errands for teachers and working in the office and shit. It was mainly for students who already had enough classes to graduate, but didn't want to lock out, or didn't have a way to leave early if they did.

Soooooo I actually don't have a lot to say about this chapter, but I'd love to hear YOUR thoughs! :D

/bribes reviewers with candy and love


	2. Round Two

**Not Without a Fight  
**Annaleise Marie

**Round Two**

**AN**: So I was really pleased with the response to last chapter. It's the most interest I think I've ever seen in a first chapter of one of my stories. So HUGE thanks to all of you! I hope I can continue to bring the lulz and keep you entertained! :D

So, this chapter will be told from both Emmett and Rosalie's POV. I intend to rotate them. I hope you enjoy it!

I own a snazzy Nana keychain that my friend bought me at TsubasaCon when she found out that I had never seen any merchandise for it, but I do not own Twilight. That belongs to Stephenie Meyer.

---

**RPOV**

The ride home was relatively quiet, save the blaring of The Honorary Title, courtesy of Jasper, as I mulled over what he had told me. The new kid, Emmett, who had made no impression on me whatsoever past being a grinning goofball, had a thing for me.

Well, he certainly works fast. And aims high, apparently. Very few of the guys around here, even the ones who had known me since kindergarten, had worked up the nerve to say they liked me.

I can't imagine why. I'm always so nice, after all. I had to laugh at that. Even I knew what utter bullshit that was. Jasper looked over at me like I was crazy before hunching over to protect his lighter from the wind of the convertible and lighting a cigarette.

"What's so funny?" he asked as he sat back up, exhaling.

"My general sunny disposition," I answered blandly. "What the fuck did I tell you about smoking in my car?"

"Not to do it because the cherry could blow off, fly into the back seat, and burn a hole in your precious leather seats," he recited obediently.

"So why are you doing it?"

"Because I needed a cigarette. Duh," he said, staring at me as though this was the obvious answer. I rolled my eyes as I pulled into our driveway and pressed the button to bring the top up as Jasper hopped easily out of the car and started walking down the street towards Alice's house.

"Why didn't you just ride home with her?" I asked and he turned around, never breaking stride and instead continuing towards Alice's, backwards.

"And miss the chance to tell you about our darling new neighbour?" he asked, looking appalled. "Never." He shot me a crooked smile before turning around again and sauntering up Alice's front walk.

Our... new...

I hadn't had time to fully process this information before a loud rumbling sound made me turn around to see a huge white Jeep pulling into the driveway of the house next to ours.

No. Way. No _fucking _way was Emmett McCarty my new neighbour.

He climbed out of the Jeep, that shit-eating grin on his face as he leaned against the door, crossing his arms over his broad chest.

"Well, hello," he said, sounding amused. "Fancy meeting you here."

"Stalking me now?" I asked, crossing my arms over his chest, mirroring him. Except, you know, my pose was ten times better because on me, it creates amazing cleavage. I saw his eyes flicker down and then back up, his grin widening.

"I live here," he pointed out.

"So do I," I said.

"How very lucky," he said.

"You think so?"

"Well yeah. See, the way I figure it, you could probably ignore me forever at school if you wanted. But here, well... seeing some of the things you'll probably see, I don't think you'll be able to resist," he said, shrugging.

"Some of the things I'll see? What, do you garden shirtless or something?"

"On the rare occasion that I garden. Why, do you want to see me shirtless?" he asked, and I swear if his grin widened any further, I think his face would break.

"That's not what I said," I spat.

"I fluster you," he said, chuckling. "When you're not in your element, behind your desk, lording it over me that you know so much more about this town and school, I fluster you."

Now, this was just about the epitome of ridiculousness. I am Rosalie Hale, and I do not get _flustered_. I'm cool as a fucking cucumber. In the freezer. And you can take that to the fucking bank.

I didn't realize that I hadn't actually _said_ anything in response until he chuckled again and leaned forward, as though that would close the distance even though we were in separate driveways.

"I apologize," he said softly. "I didn't mean to fluster you."

"No need to worry," I said, hitching my signature you-are-not-good-enough-to-lick-the-dirt-from-my-shoes smile into place. "You didn't." And with that I turned on my heel and stalked up the driveway, allowing my heels to click purposefully on the asphalt.

---

**EPOV**

Oh yeah. She wants me. She just doesn't know it yet. I smirked as I let myself into the house, dropping my keys in the bowl on the table beside the door. Nanuq, my freaking bear of a German Shepard, came running to the door, barking like she had never seen me before. Dumb ass dog.

"Nan, shut up," I shouted, reaching down to scratch her behind the ears before glancing again at the key bowl. Mom's keys were gone. I sighed, walking to the kitchen and checking the dry erase board on the fridge, Nanuq trailing along beside me.

_Emmett—  
Working night shift tonight. Order pizza or something. The card' is in the silverware drawer.  
—Mom _

My mom likes to hide the credit cards if she leaves one. Apparently if someone happens to be peering through the glass back door and sees a credit card on the table, they will break in for it. Not that I can imagine _why_ someone would scale the privacy fence to peer through the back door on the chance that there is a credit card on the table. And not that they could easily spot it if they did. The table was currently littered with mail and fliers advertising community activities such as book clubs, Forks High School's PTA, parent's booster club... My mom was well-known for joining clubs for the short time we stayed in a town. I guess it was part of her search for a place to put down roots.

I dug the credit card out of the silverware drawer and found the phone book under the sink. That was my mom, the queen of logical organization. Dear God, this town... There was no place that delivered. Jesus Christ, where had we moved?

Well, I had a few options. I could Google that shit. Although Google tends to tell you the exact same thing as a phone book. Still, it's amusing, especially when you apply rule thirty-four to the phrase "places to eat out". I chuckled a little to myself at that.

Another option was to do a loop around Forks looking for a place. I was pretty sure I could achieve that in ten minutes or less.

Or, I could go out onto the back porch to smoke, and put off doing anything altogether.

Folks, I think we have a winning decision.

I had just opened the sliding glass door, taking note that there were no intruders pressing their noses against the glass, looking to see if there was a credit card on our kitchen table, Nanuq running out at lightning speed, excited as fuck that we had a back yard this time, when I heard it.

Shouting. The sound of a damsel in distress.

Or, more accurately, the sound of a damsel that was likely to soon castrate someone with her perfectly-manicured nails.

Same thing, really.

So, being the chivalrous and incredibly nosy bastard that I was, I circled around the porch and let myself out of the gate of the privacy fence, leaning against it to watch the events unfold for a minute as I lit my cigarette.

Rosalie was out in her backyard, thankfully void of a fence, her hands on her hips and her face flushed red as she yelled at a guy with his back turned to me. The exhilarated, red-faced look was not a bad look on her, I decided.

"Royce, you need to leave, _now_," she commanded. I nearly snorted at that one, but the lungful of smoke that I had just inhaled reminded me that that probably wasn't a good idea. But really, _Royce_? What kind of gay-ass name was _Royce_? It was one of those names, like Porsche, that should never appear, unless they were stamped somewhere on a car. I mean, I wouldn't name my kid _Jeep_.

Or well, on second thought, I love my fucking Jeep. I think it might be a nice gesture to use it as a symbol of my love for my kid if, god forbid, I ever had one. Maybe a nickname, though. Not a real name.

_Royce_?

I was too busy internally laughing at this to hear his reply, but suddenly Rosalie was spinning on her heel, walking back towards the house, looking angrier than I had yet seen her.

And I'll be damned if that wasn't the fucking hottest thing I had seen to date.

_Royce_ went after her, grabbing her by the wrist, stopping her. She jerked her arm, glaring at him, but he held on, not releasing her.

"Let me go," she demanded.

Now, call me old-fashioned, but you do _not_, under _any _circumstances, touch a girl once she had made it clear that she doesn't want you fucking touching her. That shit just doesn't fly.

Before I knew that I had even made a decision to do it, I was moving towards them and pulling _Royce_ back by his shirt collar. He stumbled, clearly surprised, before turning to glare at me. Ah, such angry people in this town. Of course, if I thought I'd be stuck here longer than a year, at most, I'd be pretty damned angry too.

"I believe," I said politely, "that she said to let her go." Clearly the polite tone didn't match my face, because all of the colour drained from _Royce's _face. Jesus Christ. _Royce_. I don't think that one will ever stop being amusing. "And when a lady tells you to let her go, don't you think that's what you should do?" He didn't answer. I smacked him on the back of the head. "The correct answer is, 'Yes sir, that's exactly what I should do'."

That's right. Emmett Fucking McCarty, chivalrous bastard to the rescue.

He appeared to be biting the inside of his cheek. It took all of my restraint to resist the temptation to hit the bottom of his chin. Because really. How amusing would that be?

"This is between me and Rosalie," he finally spat. "Why don't you just go away?"

"Rosalie, do you want to talk to _Royce _or do you want him to leave?" I asked.

"I already told him to leave," she said. I turned back to him and shrugged.

"Guess that settles it, man. Get going," I said. He shook his head.

"We have things we have to talk about," he said, glaring at Rosalie.

"Well, if you're not leaving, I guess we'll just be going," I said, shrugging again. Rosalie looked confused for a moment but that confusion quickly turned to anger as I hoisted her over my shoulder and started towards my house. It was not lost on me that in that position, if I turned my head, I could see the slope of her perfect ass starting before it disappeared under the hem of her skirt. Jesus Christ, wasn't she wearing underwear?

"Put me down, you fucking caveman, I can walk," she demanded, hitting my back with her balled-up fists.

"Well certainly," I said, setting her back down on her feet. She glanced toward her house and then at me, and then back at her house, as though debating whether she could get there before I caught her again or something. "Look, I'm not going to stop you from going back there, I just don't think it's a good idea. You're welcome to hang out at my place until he leaves," I said. She still looked as if she were debating it, so I added, "I'm not going to take advantage of you or anything."

Fuck no, I like my women willing. I was just about to enjoy a hearty internal laugh at the implications of this when something like fear flickered over her face for just a moment before it was once more covered with her usual haughty thank-your-lucky-fucking-stars-you're-allowed-to-be-around-me expression. I shrugged and started heading to the gate of the backyard, smiling when I heard her following me.

Oh fuck. I forgot about Nanuq. She came bounding towards us like the fucking vicious animal that I'm sure she thinks she is, bypassing me before I could stop her, and leaping up on Rosalie.

"Dammit, get it off of me!" she shouted, moving backwards to try to get away from Nanuq. I sighed, moving to twist my fingers into her collar and pull her back. Rosalie continued to throw her wary glances as I led her to the back door. I laughed and she glared at me. "What?"

"I was just thinking that you're not as vicious as you look. You and Nan have something in common," I said, releasing the dog as Rosalie went inside before following her and shutting the door before she could follow us in.

"Here's a tip, when you're trying to get a girl into bed, don't compare them to dogs," she said, following me into the living room and taking off her jacket before sitting in one of the armchairs as I collapsed onto the couch.

"Nah, that was before," I said, sighing. "I'm not into the whole cloak-and-daggers sneaking around shit that comes with girls who have boyfriends. I'm not really the whole quick, hide in the closet, getting my clothes thrown down to me after I've had to escape out the window type of guy."

"Royce is not my boyfriend," she said tightly, glaring at the coffee table.

"Then what was all of that about?" I asked, nodding at the wall that faced her house.

"Royce's father is my dad's boss. My mom and dad want me to date him, because they say that will better ensure my dad's job, what with the economy and all," she said. "He's dumb as a bag of rocks, though. No originality whatsoever. He sent me roses the day after he met me and, I don't know, expected me to fall at his feet or something."

"You don't like roses?" I asked.

"I like roses. I don't like guys who think that sending them will make a girl fall in love with them. It's nice of them to do, but Royce's came with certain expectations," she said, trailing off and shrugging.

"What, like that you would date him?" I wasn't really getting this.

"No. It was a bit more than that," she said. "I'd rather not talk about that. But let's just say, he's nowhere near my good books anymore, and never will be."

"I see," I said, resting my feet on the coffee table. "So, is there anywhere to eat around here?" I asked.

"You're really not going to ask what happened?" she asked, sounding surprised. I shook my head.

"You said you didn't want to talk about it. I'm not going to force you to," I said. "You can tell me after you fall in love with me." I grinned at her and she rolled her eyes.

"I can guarantee you that I have no intention of that."

"Even if I send roses?"

"Especially if you send roses."

"Pity," I said. "So, is there somewhere to eat around here or not?"

"There's Carver Cafe. And a pizza place. A McDonalds. That's about all that's in Forks, honestly," she said. I raised my eyebrow. None of that sounded incredibly appetizing.

"And if you go out of Forks?"

"There are a lot of places in Port Angeles. But most of the closer towns are pretty much like this," she said, shrugging. "Why don't you just eat something here?"

"We just moved in. Groceries are completely nonexistent at this point," I said. "So, Port Angeles, how do I get there?"

"You're seriously going to go all the way there for food?"

"Maybe, if you would just tell me where it is."

"It's pretty much a straight shot up 101, and then you turn right onto first street—"

"Right, get your coat," I said, grabbing my keys off of the table.

"What?"

"Yeah, I'm not remembering those directions. Besides, I prefer to have a co-pilot," I said, shooting her a grin.

"I'm not going to Port Angeles with you. It's like an hour and a half away," she said, looking at me like I was out of my mind.

"So you'd rather stick around here? Your boyfriend is still chilling out there. Oh look, he's got a posse now!" I said, peering through the window. She glared at me.

"Fine," she said, grabbing her coat off of the couch and coming to meet me at the door. "But I'm not doing this for you," she clarified as I held the door open to let her go out first.

"That's okay," I said cheerfully. "I'm not doing it for you, either." She glared at me and I just smiled back. Because I'm Emmett Fucking McCarty, and I kill bitches with bittersweet kindness.

"I don't see a posse," she grumbled when we got outside.

"Oh no, there's definitely a posse. Of big, scary guys. With metal pipes," I said, opening her door and gesturing for her to get inside. "They're just hiding."

"You are so full of shit," she said as she climbed inside.

"Yeah, I'm okay with that," I said, shutting her door and walking around to the other side. I waved to Royce before getting in. He looked mad enough to spit. Because I'm Emmett Fucking McCarty, and I am well on my way to stealing away the girl he's trying to get back.

---

**AN**: Carver Cafe – apparently that's where the diner scenes in Twilight, the movie, were shot, and it's actually in another part of Washington. But it's the closest thing I could find to an acceptable answer through Google, so just go with it. XD

Also, I know that I already used the whole hoisting-her-over-his-shoulder thing in TRNT, but really, how could I resist? :3

I really enjoy writing from Emmett's POV. I think it's because, of all of the characters, his personality is closest to mine. Or at least, my interpretation of it. Yes, I have the personality of a man. Pfft.

So, feedback is greatly appreciated! /bribes with promises of a strip tease... well, not really, because no one wants to see that... /bribes with promises of me keeping my clothes on.


	3. Round Three

**Not Without A Fight  
**Annaleise Marie

**Round Three**

**AN**: So, something I forgot to explain in last chapter's note. When Emmett says, "especially when you apply rule thirty-four to the phrase "places to eat out", that's a 4chan reference. I believe. That's how it was explained to me, anyway. Rule Thirty-Four of the internet states that if it exists, there is porn of it.

Uh... oh. Exciting news. One of my other stories, _Asthenia_, is now a collaboration with **Nachos4Children**. We're still trying to work out exactly how to go about it, but keep an eye out for the next chapter, and be prepared to show us some love! :D

Now, let's get this show on the road! I own a broken iPod, which is very sad, but I don't own Twilight, which is also very sad. Stephenie Meyer is drawing the royalties from that. Except when displeased fans return Breaking Dawn. Just saying.

---

**EPOV**

"You have a GPS?" Rosalie asked, staring at the computer fixed into my dashboard.

"Yes. Yes I do," I said casually.

"Then why did I have to come along?" she demanded. Jesus Christ. How many times do I have to explain it? Because I'm Emmett Fucking McCarty, and I'm seriously hot shit.

"Well, because as hot as Garmin's voice gets me, your commanding tones are much more pleasing," I answered, only half joking. It would be a lie to say that her commands couldn't be (and weren't being) twisted into something perverted in my mind on a regular basis.

"You named your GPS?" she asked, raising a perfectly shaped eyebrow at me.

"No, the manufacturer named her. But I've made progress. She used to insist I call her Miss Nuvi. I think I've grown on her," I deadpanned. She was quiet for a moment, looking at me like I might be insane and mildly dangerous. "What's with the face?" I asked, laughing as I glanced at her before turning my attention back to the road.

"You make no sense," she sniffed, smoothing out her skirt before settling further into her seat. I couldn't help but let my eyes wander up her bare thigh to the hem, tightening my grip on the gearshift to keep my hand from wandering over there. Because I am Emmett Fucking McCarty and I am fucking chivalrous and I do not touch girls until they're begging for it.

"I make a _lot _of sense." I said. "You're just not listening properly."

She crossed her arms over her chest and stared out her window. And now there was the cleavage on display for me, along with her thighs. Was she _trying _to make me do something horribly improper?

… What if she was?

_Don't be stupid, Emmett. That kind of thinking gets you kicked in the balls, remember?_ I told myself, recalling the redhead in Fort Meade. Fuck, she had good aim. I nearly winced at the memory. And I had no doubt in my mind that Rosalie would be ten times more brutal.

"So where do you want to go to eat?" I asked, trying to find a nice, neutral subject to distract me from the fucking skin buffet not two feet away from me.

"It doesn't matter," she said, shrugging.

"How very helpful." I smirked, causing her to glare at me. "You know, that whole angry look that you and the rest of this town have going on – it really can't be healthy."

"The anger is inspired by your arrival," she said sharply, flipping her hair. In the enclosed space of the Jeep, the smell of her shampoo hit me full in the face, and I was surprised at the scent. It wasn't that fruity flowery shit that most girls used. It was sharper, spicier. What the hell was it?

I was so immersed in this that I forgot what she had said, and had no reply, so I just settled for my usual unaffected grin. She rolled her eyes.

"How can you just... not let anything bother you?" she asked.

"Why should I let things bother me?" I asked. I wasn't sure if I needed clarification because it really was a vague question, or if that damned sharp scent was clouding my mind. I found my cigarettes and lit one, rolling down the window slightly before extending the pack to her. She shook her head.

"Because some things are serious," she said. "But you just laugh and joke about everything."

"Okay," I said, exhaling before looking quickly at her and then the road once more. "Serious time, then?" She nodded. "Moving around all of my life, I've come to realize that there are very few things in life that are serious, or in any way permanent. All the rest, if you stress out about them, you're just making yourself miserable. So for example, the fact that I invited you to dinner by saying that I needed directions, despite the fact that I have a GPS, is so far from being as serious as you acted like it was, that seriousness can't even catch a glimpse of it over the horizon." She rolled her eyes and opened her mouth to argue.

"No, listen. My turn. I'm talking," I said, holding up a hand to stop her. "Okay. Now, on the other side of the coin, this thing with Royce. Whatever it is, it clearly _is_ serious. But since I don't know about it, and nothing else I've encountered with you is serious, I'm not going to weigh myself down in all of the bitchy angst that you seem to enjoy wallowing in." She stared at me, and I wasn't sure if she was planning on laughing, crying, screaming, or possibly just forgetting how to breathe altogether and dying. After a moment, she seemed to decide that she was going to cry.

Jesus fucking Christ, what the hell was that? Girls... They make no sense. What was there to cry about?

"Wait! I didn't mean to make you cry!" I shouted and then winced as I realized that anything outside the realm of my "inside voice" wasn't exactly comforting.

"What am I supposed to do? Laugh?" she demanded, tears still shining in her eyes. But her voice was strong. Okay. So she wasn't crying _hard_. Progress.

"Yes!" I said, exasperated. "That's _exactly_ what you're supposed to do! Don't you feel better when you laugh instead of getting angry or upset?"

"I'm not here for a therapy session!" she snapped.

"Okay, anger instead of tears. I'll take that," I said, shrugging as Garmin told me to make a right turn. "So where do you want to eat?"

"It doesn't matter," she grumbled.

"What's that you say? 'Gee I would love to ride all the way back to Forks with you after eating Mexican'?" I asked. "Well, if you insist."

"No!" she yelled. "Okay. Just... find somewhere to eat that doesn't serve beans or cheese or shellfish," she said.

"Shellfish?"

"The smell makes me sick."

"Why Rosalie Hale, I do believe you're opening up to me," I said, acting flattered. She just glowered at me. "I think you'll be happier once you eat something."

"Will you still be here after I eat?" she asked as I searched for an empty parking spot.

"Of course."

"Then I have my doubts."

"That's it! We're eating tacos! Fish tacos! With cheese!" I announced, turning off the car and climbing out, circling around to open Rosalie's door, ready to dodge a kick or a punch or whatever physical form her anger might take.

She was nearly a foot shorter than me. I hadn't realized it before. I think her anger made her appear taller. Frightening people tend to grow.

Here's the thing about me: My Jeep is my fucking sanctuary. It is pretty much the only thing in this world that I own. That means that I don't allow just anyone into it. Rosalie... for some reason it just seemed natural to let her in. But I'm not even going to analyze that. That's not the point.

The point is that the running board that serves as a step is made for someone my size, not her. So I just barely had time to see her, on the edge of the seat, peering down, trying to make her foot reach the board, before suddenly she was sliding down.

Before I thought about it, I reached out to catch her, my arms closing around her waist. The problem was, being a damned foot taller than her, I caught her before her feet had actually even hit the ground. That meant that her warm, soft body had to slide down mine before I could sit her on the down, and then my forearms were resting right under her perfect rack and my face was practically buried in her hair and fuck – _what was that scent_? All in all, not a particularly awesome situation for me. Not that I didn't enjoy every minute of it. No, what I didn't enjoy was was the aftermath: having to pull away from her quickly before she started to affect me too much. Because believe me, there was nothing that I would have rather done than to stay like that.

"Be careful," I muttered, turning to walk to the restaurant.

---

**RPOV**

In my experience, there are three steps to falling: the rescue attempt, acceptance, and the impact.

When I slid down and nothing met my foot, there was a moment where I tried to regain my grip on the seat and reverse what I had done. The rescue attempt didn't work. I accepted that I was going to hit the ground, and it was probably going to hurt, and I tensed, squeezing my eyes shut, waiting for the impact.

Except the impact never came. Instead, I was suddenly wrapped in Emmett's arms and lowered slowly to the ground before he pulled away quickly, mumbling something about me being careful and then walking towards the restaurant.

For the first time in... well, probably my whole life, I was at a loss for words. I should have thanked him, probably, but he looked almost like he didn't want to talk to me. I followed him inside and then excused myself to go to the bathroom while he got us a table.

My makeup had smudged from my brief bout of crying. That had been fucking embarrassing and infuriating all rolled into one.

The way he had mentioned Royce, despite saying that he didn't know what happened, made it seem like he at least suspected what had happened, and that made me feel... dirty. Could everyone see what he had done? But that quickly passed to give way to anger. Who did he think he was, to just waltz into my life and affect me this way? I am Rosalie Fucking Hale, and no one gets to tell me how to feel if I don't damned well want to feel that way!

And then, his explanation made me think about that, about why I'm so angry all the time. Truly, it wasn't all Royce's fault. I was like that long before him.

Anger is the easiest emotion to call up. If I don't want to feel the way people want me to, it's easy to be angry instead. After awhile, I guess it just became a mask that stayed in place no matter what.

I touched up my makeup the best I could, trying not to think about the flip side of the evening, the side that had noticed how nice and apparently intelligent Emmett actually was, or the side that had begun to notice how attractive he was. I had been too busy being annoyed with him from the start to notice.

When I was finally satisfied that I no longer looked like a raccoon, I left the restroom, glancing around the restaurant to try to spot him. I finally found him in a booth way in the back, away from the bar, and I wondered if it was his dumb luck or if he had actually thought to get one of the quietest seats there. I slid into the booth across from him and he glanced up from his menu, smiling.

"Feeling better?" he asked.

"Yes," I said, and I was amazed at how hard it had been to bite back the hostile answer, 'not really'. Clearly he had been expecting something along those lines, because he looked surprised for a second before going back to his menu. I looked down at mine, and realized that I wasn't hungry. My stomach was twisting as if it was debating whether I was going to be sick or not, and I realized that for the first time in a long time... I was nervous.

What the hell? What did I have to be _nervous_ about?

I ordered a salad, figuring that it would be the easiest thing to force down, if need be, and listened as he ordered a burger – medium-rare.

"How can you eat that?" I asked.

"The same way people eat their beef shoe-leather-style. With my mouth," he said, smirking.

"But it's not cooked," I said, ignoring his sarcasm.

"Sure it is. On the outside."

"You're impossible to have a conversation with, you know that?" I asked, narrowing my eyes.

"Yeah. I think that's the second time you've told me."

"No, the first time I said that you make no sense."

He just looked at me for a second before bursting out laughing. "Right. Sorry," he said once he had stopped laughing a little. "Okay, so, conversation then – have you lived in Forks your whole life?"

"Pretty much. I was born in New York, and then we moved to Texas, when my dad's mom got sick, and Jasper was born there. Then when I was about four we moved here," I said. "Where did you grow up?"

"I lived in Tennessee until I was about eleven, and then my dad died. After that, my mom just started moving us around," he said. "I've lived in North Carolina, Virginia, California, Utah, Colorado, Maine, Nevada, Arizona, New Mexico, Michigan, and Maryland." He ticked off each state on his fingers as he counted. "And now Washington. I guess I didn't technically grow up in any one place."

"It doesn't bother you, moving that much?" I asked. I couldn't really imagine it. I had lived in the same place, went to schools, with the same people, since I was a toddler.

"Some places are harder than others," he said. "But for the most part, it's not hard, just... tedious."

I nodded, although I couldn't really understand what he meant. We were quiet as the waiter brought our food, and for a few minutes after.

"So is Jasper your only sibling?" he asked finally. I nodded. I was surprised that he was bringing Jasper up. It seems like most guys, given the circumstances, wouldn't even want to bring up that they had ever met Jasper.

"Do you have any brothers or sisters?" I asked in return. It seemed like this was the pattern our conversation was going to fall into, parroting each other's questions.

"No. My mom wanted to have more, but she had trouble carrying me to term, and then she miscarried a few times after me, so she stopped trying after a while. Then we started moving all over the place, so it's probably best that there weren't any others."

And so the conversation went on through dinner. I was surprised at how serious he could be, if he wanted to, but as the meal went on and I relaxed more, I started to appreciate his humour more.

I was almost disappointed when it was time to go.

---

The ride home was quiet, but not uncomfortable, and once more, I was almost disappointed when I saw the turn for our street. I sat up, smoothing my skirt down from where it had ridden up a little as a result of me curling my feet under me for the ride, while Emmett pulled into his driveway.

"Thanks," I said. "For dinner, and everything."

"Thanks for... well... for eventually stopping fighting me over it," he said, grinning. I shook my head, smiling a little.

There was a pause, that expectant little pause that there always was at the end of dates – was this a date? – before Emmett leaned in towards me. I felt his breath ghost over my face, the smell of cigarette smoke and spearmint gum assaulting my senses, and I let my eyes close.

The next second there was a popping sound and the light in the Jeep came on. My eyes sprang open again.

"Goodnight, Rosalie," Emmett said before leaning back. It only took me a second to recover from the surprise and I glared at him before getting out and slamming the door.

Because I am Rosalie Fucking Hale, and the bitch is back.

I stalked across the yard to the sidewalk to my door, grabbing the key from over the door frame and letting myself in. All in under ten seconds, I'd bet.

"What's going on?" Jasper's voice called from the living room. I walked in to find him sitting on the couch, Alice stretched out beside him with her head resting on his thigh, fast asleep.

"Emmett fucking McCarty... Why is Alice here?" I asked, distracted, if only for a moment.

"Her mom's not coming home tonight, so she's staying here," he said. Alice was afraid of being alone in a dark house, for whatever reason. "Now what about Emmett McCarty?"

"He fucking..." I trailed off, unable to even find words to describe how pissed I was. "I'll be right back."

I stomped back to hall and then out the door. This was _not_ how this night was ending.

Because _nobody _snubs Rosalie Fucking Hale.

---

**EPOV**

I was going to kiss her. Really. Because fuck, the whole way home she had had her thighs on fucking display, actually looking _relaxed_ instead of ready to strike, and she had been acting friendly. As much of a turn on as her bitchiness could be, it was nothing compared to Comfortable Rosalie. Except instead of making me want to just fuck her into submission, Comfortable Rosalie made me want to cuddle.

Cuddle. Like a fucking teddy bear or some shit.

But somewhere between the decision to kiss her and leaning over, I lost my nerve. Or rather, I lost my desire to chance the fact that even as Comfortable Rosalie, she would reach down and emasculate me. So I watched her storm off, clearly just glad to be able to get away from me. Apparently the slight peace we had achieved during dinner and the ride home had ended now that we were back on her turf.

I shook my head, resigned to having to start over tomorrow – simply giving up was not an option; I am Emmett Fucking McCarty, and I do not give up on _anything_ – and went inside after watching to make sure she got into her house safely.

I was all the way up to my room, trying to get ready for bed, when I heard the sound of the doorbell. I swore and threw my shirt back on as I tried to navigate down the stairs, which was a bad idea because by the third step I slipped. And when big guys like me slip, there's usually some damage.

"Jesus fucking Christ," I groaned when I finally managed to stop falling halfway down. I think about five steps had just taken all of their anger at years of being walked on out on my fucking spine. The doorbell rang insistently. Fuck. Don't they know I'm injured?

I pulled myself up and hobbled to the door, peering through the glass at the top to see who the hell it was at eleven at night.

Rosalie. Looking pissed as always. Well, there's something to be said for the comfort of consistency. I turned the bolt and pulled the door open, fully ready to deliver the line, "I knew you'd miss me, but I didn't think it would be this soon."

I never got the chance.

She stormed over the threshold, her hands coming up to push me back into the wall behind me before reaching up to pull my head down, her lips meeting mine in a fiery, almost punishing kiss.

Because I'm Emmett Fucking McCarty, and I just got my balls handed to me by a little blonde girl.

---

**AN**: Sigh. I know. Chapter three and already a kiss. What a fight, right? But fear not, this is far from over. It's not going to automatically be sunshine and daisies from this point. :D

This chapter will probably be the last one that I force myself to write from Rosalie's POV. Her perspective just doesn't interest me as much, and I think it comes through in my writing. From now on, her POV will only be used if it's like, important. Because this is supposed to be a comedy, and Rosalie is too damned serious. Or, at least, she is in my head canon.

Something I was thinking about: I don't really care that much, personally, about the character's ages because in high school it doesn't really effect most of your classes and stuff. However, for those of you who have to know (because I've read stories before where I've felt the need to know), the ages are as follows:

**Emmett McCarty** – 18, senior  
**Rosalie Hale** – 17, senior  
**Jasper Hale** – 16, junior  
**Alice Brandon** – 17, senior  
**Bella Swan** – 17, junior  
**Edward Cullen** – 18, senior (what? what do you mean I haven't introduced him yet? 0.o)

Garmin Nuvi – this is my GPS's make and model. Mine, however, is named Finn-Ahren. My friend and I then turned it on and were horrified to discover that no matter what language you set it to, it has a female voice. But despite that, its name is still Finn-Ahren. Our laziness won out over our horror.

Thanks for all of your nice reviews, favourites, alerts, etc. And thank you to **Maldita**, who left me a very nice review but who I couldn't reply to because... well, I'm not sure exactly. It just wouldn't let me.

A note, before I forget: Those of you who also read TRNT, please don't think I ignored your reviews or forgot to send you your previews. The chapter isn't ready yet, and I haven't written the part I'm going to send as a preview. You will get them before the next chapter is out, with your replies, and for now, know that I appreciate every single one of you. :3

And now... /bribes reviewers with promises of an eternal love that burns hotter than the fiery intensity of one thousand suns


	4. Round Four

**Not Without A Fight  
**Annaleise Marie

**Round Four**

**AN**: I was really surprised by the feedback from the last chapter, in regards to Rosalie's POV. So many people actually liked it. However, as an author, it was just too frustrating to write. However, there will be important parts of the story that Emmett will not be in, and those will still be told from Rosalie's POV. So we can all be happy. :D

And now, without further adieu, I own a can of NOS that is making it possible for me to stay awake to type this, but I do not own Twilight. That belongs to Stephenie Meyer.

---

There was a moment where everything in the world seemed to stop. My sore back was pressed against the wall, Rosalie's lips were pressed hard against mine, and the world was fucking still. And then everything abruptly sped up and I was hooking my fingers through the belt loops of that fucking skirt and pulling her to me, crushing her hips to mine as I returned the kiss. It wasn't timid or gentle or any of the millions of other things that people imagine first kisses will be. It was raw, and hard, and fucking messy and I fucking loved every second of it.

But too soon it was over and she was pulling away, glaring at me before turning and stomping back out of the door, slamming it behind her.

I slid to the ground, my sore back protesting against the hard plaster, out of breath, my head spinning. Holy fucking shit. What the fuck was _that_?

Going to bed was useless after that. I couldn't sleep. And the problem wasn't helped by the fact that I discovered that Rosalie's window was right across from mine.

She slept like a fucking baby, for the record.

---

I was dead to the world the next morning. I am worth nothing if I don't get my sleep. I stared at the coffee maker for ten minutes after the coffee was done brewing. I didn't even realize it until my mom walked in, looking almost as tired as me, her scrubs wrinkled, dark circles under her eyes.

"Oh. Emmett," she said when she saw me. "Why haven't you left for school yet?"

"Waiting for coffee," I said. Pronouns have no place in my sleep-deprived articulation.

"Honey, the coffee maker is done," she said, coming over and feeling my forehead with the back of her hand. "Are you feeling okay?"

"Tired," I answered, pulling a mug from the cabinet and then staring at the coffee maker again, wondering if there was any other way to get it into the cup other than actually picking the pot up.

"Emmett? Honey? Are you okay to drive?" Mom asked, looking concerned.

"Taking the bus," I said. There was no way I was going to risk my Jeep because I was tired. I was not above the bus.

"You're not going to stay up all night like this every time I have to work night shift, are you?" she asked. "It's just not healthy."

"Not planning on it," I said. "Bye."

"Have a good day, honey," she said, still looking concerned.

I was halfway to the bus stop when I realized that I still didn't have any coffee.

---

When you're tired, there is nothing more evil in the world than steps. Especially the giant steps going onto the bus. I was glad I decided not to drive. I wouldn't even have been able to get into it.

I didn't pay much attention to who I was sitting next to until I heard the music coming from their earbuds.

"The Pernice Brothers," I said. He paused his iPod and looked at me, an eyebrow raised.

"You know the Pernice Brothers?" he said skeptically.

"Obviously," I said. "That surprises you?"

"Well, yeah. You know, you look like the type of guy who would listen to... I don't know, Mindless Self Indulgence. Without realizing that they're actually rock instead of rap."

Now, I was sleep deprived, but I could've sworn he just called me a pseudo gangsta. On a related note, the word _gangsta_ leaves a bad taste in the back of my throat. I was too tired to really care, though.

"I listen to a lot of things," I said.

"Edward Cullen," he said after a moment.

"What?"

"That's my name. You know, people have this strange custom of introducing themselves when they start a conversation with someone new," he said with a crooked smile.

Oh right. Customs. Yeah. Those exist. Right.

"Emmett McCarty," I said.

"I know," he said.

"Oh right. The whole small town thing," I said.

"That, and my girlfriend was talking about you the other day. She said you seem clever," Edward said. His tone conveyed pretty clearly that he wasn't sure he agreed.

"I'm usually pretty clever, I guess," I said.

"How's that working for you?" he asked.

"What?"

"Being clever."

I almost laughed at that. I probably would have, if breathing didn't seem to be taking up alarming amounts of my energy at that moment.

"It usually works out pretty well," I said. "So who's your girlfriend?"

"Bella Swan. She met you in the office," he said. I was glad he elaborated. My mind wasn't working fast enough to make that connection on its own. I nodded.

"She seems nice."

"She's perfect," he said, and looking at him, even in my sleep-clouded mind, I could tell that he meant it. I've always felt uncomfortable around guys who were head-over-heels in love with their girlfriends. I guess because I've never been the relationship type of guy – not because I wouldn't want to be, but because I've never had the chance – and as easygoing as I try to be, I do have a slight jealous streak. "So how are you liking Forks?"

"It has its good points, and its bad, I guess. About like anywhere," I said. Had I had a cigarette this morning? I couldn't remember. This was going to be a long day.

"Rosalie Hale?" he asked.

"What?"

"She's the good point and the bad point, isn't she?" he asked.

"How do you know that?" I asked.

"I can read minds," he said, his face completely serious for a moment before he laughed and shook his head. "Man, you live in Forks now; you have no privacy."

"Good to know," I muttered. We were both quiet until the bus arrived at the school. I saw Bella from the window, waiting for Edward, I would guess.

"Well, man, it was good talking to you," he said, standing up. "Oh. There's a party tomorrow night at Mike Newton's place. He's kind of a idiot but well, around here you take what entertainment you can get. You should stop by."

"I wasn't invited."

"No one's _invited_ to Mike's parties. People just spread the word and show up," he said. I nodded. I would probably go. If this Rosalie-induced insomnia kept up, I would need something to do that night anyway.

In first period, Jasper wasn't the only one asleep. It seemed like I had just barely sat down when my head hit the desk and I was out. It was a power-nap. One of those naps where you're aware, in some corner of you mind, that you're drooling and probably snoring, but you're enjoying sleeping so much that you just can't find it in yourself to care.

I woke up when someone tapped me on the shoulder and opened my eyes to find Alice's big brown ones looking back at me, entirely too close for comfort. I sat up, noticing that everyone was filing out of the room.

"Aww, you poor thing," she said, and she truly sounded sympathetic. I wondered what the hell that was about. She waved her hand, indicating that I should follow her, and began leading me out of the room. I felt a little more aware after sleeping, but I still couldn't find it in me to really wonder where we were going, or why.

We eventually wound up at the football field, under the stands. They were built on a large cement structure, and the inside created a tunnel that held the locker rooms and concession stands. The cool air that filtered through the tunnel helped to wake me up a bit, and I followed Alice's example and sat down next to her on the ground, my back against the wall. The sharp pain reminded me of last night, and I sighed, letting my head drop. Alice was staring at me, looking politely concerned.

"Are you okay?" she asked. I nodded. "Are you sure? I thought you and Rosalie got into a fight last night."

"What?" I asked, finally looking up.

"Well, she came storming into the house, saying something about you, then left, and then came back, went to her room, slammed the door, and well... I haven't seen her since. She was already gone when Jazz and I left this morning," she said. "So I didn't hear what exactly happened, but I figured you guys were fighting." I didn't say anything. "I think it will work out, though, so you shouldn't worry."

"What makes you think that?" I asked.

"I haven't seen two people affect each other so much so quickly since Jasper and me," she said, smiling. "That has to mean something. So if you're fighting, I wouldn't worry too much about it."

"We're not fighting," I said, laughing. "Or at least, I don't think we are."

"Then what happened?" she asked, looking confused.

"Well... she kissed me," I said, and even I knew how little sense that answer would make. But Alice didn't seem surprised. She nodded slowly.

"Yeah," she said. "Well, when Rosalie wants something, she goes after it. Sometimes she's a little... aggressive."

"No shit," I said with a small laugh. She smiled.

"It'll be okay. You just have to give her time. She'll calm down after awhile."

I wasn't sure that I wanted her to calm down. Had last night gone on, instead of her stomping out, I had no doubt that it would have been one of the most gratifying experiences of my life. Or, at least, my life so far. I like to aim high. But I nodded anyway.

Alice smiled, clearly thinking she had helped in some way. I was glad I hadn't told her exactly how far off base she was.

"I don't know why it matters so much," I said. "I've only known her for one day. It shouldn't matter what the hell she thinks or does."

"But it does," Alice said knowingly. "And that's why I think it will all work out. You don't have to know why you care about someone – all that's important is that you do."

"That's how it is with you and Jasper?"

"Hmm... It was at first. But now I know about a thousand reasons why I love him," she said, her eyes taking on a far-away quality.

"How did you meet?"

"Well, when I first moved here, I had trouble meeting people. I was a lot more soft-spoken then. So I started looking around this teen dating site," she said, laughing.

"You met Jasper over the internet?" I asked. She shook her head.

"God no. He may be scary, but trust me, he didn't need help getting girls. He has that Southern charm, even if he didn't live in Texas long," she said. "No, I was actually supposed to be meeting this guy named James at the diner. Well, he stood me up, but when Jasper walked in, he fit James' description. Tall, blonde, sixteen, the whole nine yards. So I go up to him and say, 'you've kept me waiting a long time'. And he just bows his head and says, 'I'm sorry, ma'am'. We went out that night, and it was just... instant. It was a month before he told me that he wasn't James."

"You didn't know his name was Jasper?"

"He went by Jay back then. He doesn't really like his name. He says it's too old-fashioned," she said, laughing. "It took me forever to get him to start using it. I love it. I think it's very respectable."

"But he knew that you thought he was James?"

"Mm-hmm."

"So why did he take so long to tell you?"

"He says that he was afraid that if he did, I wouldn't want to be with him. Jasper's always been a very cynical person, but he says that when he met me, he felt hopeful, and he didn't want to lose that."

"Sounds nice," I said. As uncomfortable as long-term loving couples usually made me, Alice's story was a good one, and understanding her relationship with Jasper, even a little, made it more bearable.

We stayed there the rest of the day, trading stories about our pasts. Jasper arrived during lunch, checking to make sure Alice was okay, as far as I could tell. He didn't say much to me, although I get the feeling that it was at Alice's request, because when he did look at me, he looked far from happy.

"Do you want a ride home?" she asked when we heard the last bell ring from the school. "I didn't see your car when I got here."

"I think I probably shouldn't test Jasper's patience," I said. She shook her head.

"No, he's riding home with Rosalie. He wants to talk to her about something."

"Let me guess. You decided that you should each corner one of us and find out what happened?" I asked. She shrugged.

"Pretty much."

---

**RPOV**

"So what's going on with you and Emmett?" Jasper asked as he once again fucking ignored me and lit up in my car. "You never did explain yesterday."

"There's nothing going on," I said shortly.

"Sure there is. If there wasn't, you'd just ignore him like everyone else. But you disappeared with him for the whole evening, and then you came back pissed off over something he did, and then you left, and then you came back even more pissed," he said. "And then today, he comes to school looking like death warmed over."

"He was in school today?" I asked and Jasper nodded. "I didn't see him."

"He spent most of the day with Alice under the bleachers."

"And that doesn't bother you?"

"Not really," Jasper said, shrugging. "I like to think I keep Alice pretty damned satisfied."

"I really don't need to hear about that," I said, shaking my head to stave off the mental images. He grinned.

"So are you going to tell me what happened, then?" he asked, and I was sure that if I didn't, he'd start telling me about his sex life.

"Wait. Let me make sure I'm getting this," he said when I was done telling him the story. "You got mad because he didn't kiss you... So you went over there and kissed him... And you were still mad?"

"When you say it like that, it sounds stupid," I said, glaring at him.

"It _is _stupid."

"I didn't ask for your opinion," I said, parking the car and getting out before he could answer, stalking to the door and walking in. Halfway to my room I heard him come in.

"You know, if you keep slamming doors like that, eventually one is going to just fall off of its hinges!" he shouted after me. I slammed my bedroom door for good measure. "Very mature!" he shouted.

---

**AN**: Ten points and eternal love for those who spotted the Fight Club reference. :D

Sigh. I know, this chapter wasn't as funny as the previous ones. I didn't even get to fit in a "Because I'm Emmett Fucking McCarty". It's very sad. It was necessary, though. Next chapter will be back to the normal tone, for I have a plan for it! A big plan! So please don't be too disappointed in me. :3

On a side note, while most of you are reading this, chances are I'm at the theater, watching New Moon. I'm hoping that between Taylor Lautner, Jackson Rathbone, and Kellan Lutz, I'll be able to survive it. Although Jackson and Kellan won't be in it much. At all. It's very sad. On a related note, 100 Monkeys is coming to my state, which is amazing because _no one _comes to West Virginia, and I will, for once in my life, go full-out fangirl in the front row for Jackson Rathbone. Assuming I can afford it.

I haven't made a playlist for this story yet, although some of my other stories have them. For now, though, I recommend "Wet Sand" by the Red Hot Chili Peppers. The sound is kind of slow for the story, but the lyrics fit pretty well.

And now – /bribes reviewers with good old-fashioned hugs and kisses


	5. Round Five

**Not Without A Fight  
**Annaleise Marie

**Round Five**

**AN**: So I saw New Moon and I really don't have much to say about it except: Best of luck to anyone else who decides to tackle _that_ particular shitstorm. I then got to work where my co-worker, the original twimom, was verbal-fapping to the damned thing.

Anway, this chapter contains the first lemon of the story. I enjoy writing lemons but then, people I actually know read my stories and I'm kind of nervous about how they'll see me after they read it... Hmm... Additionally, the girl involved has the same name as my best friend, which made it very, very awkward for me to write. XD

I own a buffalo chicken Subway sandwich which is currently rocking the hell out of my tastebuds, but I don't own Twilight. That belongs to Stephenie Meyer.

---

**EPOV**

The next day wasn't much different than the one before, except that I had actually managed to sleep, and I went to my classes. I was glad it was Friday. Even though I had only been at Forks High for three days, it seemed like it had been a long week.

Bella stopped by my table at lunch to ask if I was going to Mike Newton's party. I wasn't sure until Alice informed me that Rosalie was planning on going. And you know, I had fallen behind in my attempts to woo the fair maiden due to my day spent as a zombie. Which was pretty much her fault.

Regardless, I am Emmett Fucking McCarty, and once I set my sights on a girl, I don't stop until she's under me – or over me, it doesn't really matter which – screaming my name. Except, you know, that time in North Carolina, because that's smack in the fucking bible belt, and people there are much more into the whole waiting-for-marriage thing.

The point is, I was definitely going to the party.

No matter where you are, high school parties are the same – no supervision, lots of booze, and an incredible amount of hormones.

Now, I would _never _take advantage of a girl while she's drunk. And let's face it, with Rosalie, alcohol probably wouldn't work in my favour anyway. She seemed like a very violent type of drunk. Although, in the right situation, maybe that _could_ work in my favour. I smirked to myself as I got out of my Jeep, a block away from Mike Newton's house. Jesus Christ, the whole damned town had obviously shown up.

Not that that was saying a lot.

"Emmett!" I turned around to see Alice following behind me, pulling Jasper behind her. "So you did come! I knew you would!"

I wasn't sure if Alice and I were friends or whatever, but it was always nice, how happy she seemed to see me. Maybe she was my friend. I wasn't sure. I didn't really bother making friends anymore. Everyone always seemed to just stay people I knew.

"Rosalie's already here," she said knowingly. "She came with Bella and Edward."

"He didn't ask that, Alice," Jasper said. She smiled.

"But he wanted to know," she insisted, reaching behind him and pulling something from his back pocket. "Why, thank you, sir," she said before skipping off to the house. Jasper sighed.

"Hey man, do me a favour," he said quietly. "Keep an eye out for Alice in there, in case I lose track of her. She just took my flask, and I don't want anything to happen to her." I nodded. "And keep an eye on Rosalie, when you can. Royce is around here somewhere," he added, nodding at a black Challenger parked on the other side of the street.

I nodded again and he hurried ahead of me, catching up with Alice at the door.

When I walked in I immediately zeroed in on Rosalie, because apparently I have developed a fucking radar that can pick her out of a crowd in point-two-five-three seconds. Although, I probably would have noticed her even if I had never met her before because Jesus fucking Christ, _what_ was she wearing?

I didn't know where to look first. She was wearing a tight halter top, made out of some shiny pink material, that showed off her perfect rack. The top ended a good inch before the waistband of her jeans and fuck, if I liked that skirt of hers, it was _nothing _compared to these jeans. They sat low on her hips and hugged her thighs and ass, and somehow made her legs look even longer, as if they didn't _already_ seem to take up nearly two-thirds of her total height. Add to that the fucking black sex-heels she had decided to wear and suddenly all I could do was imagine those legs wrapped around me, those heels digging into me as I fucked her into the mattress.

I sauntered over to her – yes, I _sauntered_, because I'm Emmett Fucking McCarty, and I can pull that shit off – and leaned against the wall beside her.

"Well Miss Hale, you are looking just lovely," I drawled. She rolled her eyes.

"And you are just as charming as ever, Mr. McCarty," she said, sounding bored.

"Really?"

"No," she said, laughing and bringing her red plastic party cup to her mouth.

"You hurt me, Rosalie," I sighed. She didn't look at me, opting instead to stare out into the room. Apparently the living room, being the room with the stereo, was the designated dancing area. If you could call it dancing. It looked more like sex with clothes, really. Which was just fine with me. "So why aren't you out there?"

"No one ever asks me," she said, her eyes narrowing.

"I guarantee you they're just overcome by that gentle face of yours," I said. And now she was glaring at me. Well, at least now she was looking at me. Progress.

"Are you going to ask me to dance?" she asked. I smiled and shrugged.

"Only if you know the one from Pulp Fiction," I said. "I want to be Uma. You'll have to be John."

She shook her head and walked away, disappearing into the crowd. Well fuck. I didn't mean I didn't want to dance with her; I was only joking. Actually, the thought of dancing with her, her body pressed up against mine in those fucking jeans, moving to the pulsing beat of Mike's playlist, was _incredibly_ appealing.

But those fucking jeans were gone. I sighed and turned around to see Jasper standing there, grinning at me. It was somehow more unnerving than when he stared at me like he was planning to eat my soul.

"Smooth," he said, looking towards the hall where Rosalie had disappeared. "You are one suave fucker, I've gotta say."

"Jazz, be nice to him," Alice said, appearing from behind him and wrapping her arms around his waist.

"I _am_ being nice. In fact, I come bearing gifts," he said, reaching into his jacket pocket and producing a flask. A fucking flask. First a cowboy hat, now a fucking flask. I know he had one earlier, but for some reason it didn't strike me as strange until now. Maybe because he had been so serious about it when Alice had swiped it earlier.

"Aww, you're going to share with Emmett?" Alice asked, tightening her hold on Jasper. "That's _so _nice." It was about then that I realized that Alice wasn't hugging Jasper, she was holding onto him to keep from falling over.

"Don't flatter him Alice," Jasper said. "I swiped it from Newton. You emptied mine already."

"Oh I did _not_," Alice said, giggling.

"Now come on," Jasper said to me. "You're going to need to drink if you're going to chase my sister around all night."

"Why?"

"Because drunk people get discouraged," he said, lifting Alice up piggyback-style and leading the way out to the back deck. Newton had a pool, and there were already people in various states of undress, soaking wet, running from the house to the pool. I got slapped across the chest by Bella Swan's hair as she ran by, Edward right behind her. They both looked somehow more out-of-place than the rest, being soaking wet but still fully clothed.

Jasper plopped Alice down on a patio chair and sat down beside her, gesturing for me to sit down as well. He passed me the flask as Alice pouted and wrestled herself out of her chair before situating herself in Jasper's lap, snuggling into his chest.

I unscrewed the lid of the flask and took a swig, swallowing hurriedly before coughing and handing it back to him.

"What is that shit?" I asked.

"That, sir, is the fine taste of Brugal," he said, wincing and raising the flask to his lips, swallowing and wincing. "Newton has truly refined tastes in rum. Alice drank all of the Cap'n."

"Lucky Alice," I said grimly, trying to will the horrible taste out of my throat.

"I spoil her, and she leaves me with crappy booze," he said mournfully.

"I can hear you, you know," she announced, her voice muffled by his chest. He ruffled her hair.

"I know, darlin', but you won't remember it in the morning so I'm getting all of my shots in now," he said before passing the flask back to me. This time I was ready for it and the shitty liquor went down easier.

"I hate you," Alice told him.

"I know, darlin'," he said, rolling his eyes.

"I don't hate you," she said.

"I know, darlin'."

"Love you."

"Okay, time to get you home, I think," he said, hooking his arms under her legs and behind her back before standing up. "Listen, seriously, keep an eye on Rosalie," he said to me. "If anything happens to her, I will personally have you stuffed and mounted on my wall, you got that?"

"Got it," I said, saluting him. I don't know, he just seemed like the kind of guy you would salute.

Once they had left, I stood up, holding very still for a moment to gauge my own drunkenness. Apparently Brugal was as impotent as it was disgusting, because I only felt pleasantly buzzed and for a big guy, I have a very low tolerance.

---

Okay. So apparently Sir Brugal is some sort of mystical delayed-release type of shitty rum, because I wasn't entirely sure how I got in my Jeep. Especially in this situation. But fuck. I wasn't complaining.

What I could remember from the time that I stood up to now could fit in four sentences: I tried to find Rosalie. I failed at finding Rosalie. Instead, I found Lauren. Apparently I like Lauren, because there I was, in the back of my Jeep, with her straddling me as our mouths battled each other.

I brought my hand up to my chest when she pressed something against me and groaned into her mouth when I realized that it was a condom package. Fuck, this was too easy. Especially since I couldn't really recall trying for anything. But the way things were going, I had figured that we'd make out, I might get a hand job, maybe _possibly_ a blow job, if I was lucky.

Her hands moved down, leaving the condom in mine as they flew to my belt, undoing it quickly before popping the button on my jeans and unzipping them. The next second her hand was in my boxers and I hissed at the contact, thrusting into her hand as her grip tightened and her thumb rubbed over the tip of my dick and she bit my bottom lip, sucking it into her mouth. Jesus fucking Christ, it felt like it had been ten years since anyone other than me had touched my cock.

I ran my hands up her thighs, letting one come to rest on her hip while the other moved inward to sweep over the soaked cotton of her underwear. _Fuck_.

She pulled away, hooking her own fingers through the waistband of her underwear under her skirt and yanking them down before tugging on my pants and boxers. I raised my hips to allow her to pull them down, tearing open the condom package with my teeth and rolling it onto my aching cock as she straddled me, barely giving me time to get the damned thing on before she slammed down onto me, taking me all the way in in one swift motion.

"Fuck," I choked out, pulling down on her shoulders to keep her still as I adjusted to being inside her. _Fuck_ she felt good. After a few moments I relaxed my grip on her shoulders and she started moving, raising herself up before slamming herself back down, taking me to the hilt each time.

Now, I'm about three steps under a man-whore. I won't just fuck anything that moves, but I'm not exactly the most discriminate of guys either. I'm usually pretty damned happy with what I get, and let me tell you, Lauren was fucking talented, rising and falling in my lap, gasping every time my hips snapped up to meet hers. Her hands gripped my shoulders, her nails digging into my skin, leaving angry red welts in their wake. She was riding me hard and fast, just the way I fucking love it.

So the fact that as I was twisting my fingers into Lauren's hair, I was turning it from platinum to gold, and that as I buried my face in her neck, biting into the skin and making her gasp louder, I was imagining her floral perfume as a spicier scent... This was all very strange to me. My alcohol-fogged mind changed everything about Lauren, softening her sharp features into more angelic ones, turning her gray eyes blue, making her thighs rounder as my hand slid up one to grip her ass. Even that, under my hand, became fuller and firmer.

She threw her head back as I thrust harder into her, and when she looked at me again, it was Rosalie smirking at me. I groaned, letting my own head fall back against the headrest as I felt her start to tighten around me, her cries getting louder.

---

**RPOV**

"Jasper, where the hell are you?" I yelled over the music.

"I took Alice home," he said, sounding like he had been asleep. "Is something wrong?"

"Nothing, except that you were my ride home, you asshat," I ground out. He sighed.

"Just get a ride home from Emmett," he said. I concentrated on somehow glaring at him through the phone. "Don't look at me like that." Holy shit, it worked. Either that, or he knows me too well. "He's going to be coming this way anyway, and I don't want Alice to wake up drunk and alone."

"Fine," I spat. I just had to be the sister of the one teenage boy in America who was constantly considering his girlfriend's feelings.

After looking for twenty minutes I ran into Bella and Edward, who said that they had seen Emmett leave the house awhile ago and they hadn't seen him since. I cursed and went out the front door, staring down the street, looking for the Jeep, hoping he hadn't left yet. I was sure Edward would drop me off later if he had, but I was ready to leave.

I spotted the Jeep almost a block away and started walking, crossing my arms to try to defend myself against the chilly late October night air. I passed Lauren Mallory and she looked like she had been partying a little too hard. I was sure there would be stories about it at school on Monday. The girl was a huge gossip, even when it came to stories about herself.

I arrived at the Jeep to find Emmett leaning against it, smoking, looking just as unaffected as ever. When he looked up, he seemed almost surprised to see me there.

"Hey," he said. "What're you doing here?"

"Jasper told me to ask you for a ride home," I said, sure to let him know that this was not my idea. He nodded.

"Oh yeah, he took Alice home," he said. "So are you wanting to go now?"

"Unless you're wanting to stick around for a while," I said. He smirked.

"Nope, I'm pretty much done here," he said, opening the door and signaling for me to get in.

The Jeep smelled like sex.

---

I usually spend my lunch period in the library rather than sitting around in the cafeteria either watching Jasper and Alice swoon all over each other or listening to everyone gossip, but Monday I had woken up late and hadn't eaten breakfast. By noon, I was starving.

The cafeteria food made me want to rethink whether or not starvation was really that bad. Meatloaf shouldn't be gray. Well, really, it shouldn't exist at all, but if it does, it shouldn't be gray. And potatoes shouldn't have the consistency of cream of wheat.

I took my tray to an empty table and stared at my tray, trying to decide if I was going to risk the food poisoning or not. That was when I was made aware of who I was sitting next to.

"_Everything_ about him is big, if you know what I mean," Lauren Mallory was saying and my eyes narrowed. _Bitch_. I remembered passing her on my way to the Jeep, and now everything was clicking into place.

"I really don't need details," Angela Weber said, and I silently thanked her. I didn't really need them, either. I was having trouble keeping my fingernails as part of my hands instead of part of her throat as it was.

"I do," Jessica said, laughing. "So c'mon, Lauren, tell us about it."

"Sorry, you know I don't kiss and tell," Lauren said smugly. I nearly laughed at that. Like hell she doesn't. The whole fucking school could name off who she's kissed. Or sucked. Or fucked. They could probably give you stats on how many of the three each guy got, she talked so much.

"So wait," Jessica Stanley said as I picked up my bowl of mashed potatoes, inspecting them and wondering if they were even mildly edible. "Are you two like, together now?"

"Well, not like, officially. But you know," Lauren said, giggling. I wanted to rip her vocal cords out.

Instead I stood up and turned around, standing behind her and bringing my hand up under her chin to hold her still. I imagine that there was a moment in which her eyes widened in panic, and I almost wish I could have seen it before I smashed the bowl of runny potatoes to her face.

I held it there for a second before pulling it away and setting it down on the table and crouching down, waiting for her to turn around. She did, slowly, as she wiped the potatoes from her stupid overlined eyes.

"Oh my _God_, Lauren," I gasped as she stared at me, her mouth open in shock. "I am so _sorry_. Oh well. Maybe you should run along and clean up." She blinked, clearly lost for words. "But before you go, I think I should tell you... You might not have heard, but Emmett McCarty is off-limits. You overstepped a line there. You might want to avoid that in the future," I hissed.

I stood up as her hands came up to her face once more, wiping at the runny potatoes.

I was just walking out of the cafeteria when I heard her start to scream, the rest of the cafeteria shocked into silence except for one person's deep, booming laughter.

---

**EPOV**

Fuck, I didn't know what Lauren had done to piss Rosalie off so much, but that was the funniest fucking thing I had seen in a _long _time. I had looked up when the gasps had started, and then the silence fell as Rosalie crouched down beside Lauren. I couldn't hear what Rosalie was saying to her, but Lauren looked shocked stupid.

After a moment, Rosalie stood up and left the cafeteria, smirking. I couldn't react to anything at first. I had about four different emotions going through my head. I felt bad for Lauren, sure, but I was also amused beyond belief at what had happened, and curious as to _why_ it had happened, and fucking turned on as hell because holy shit Rosalie was hot as fucking shit when she was angry, and that edge of amusement mixed with her own fury just put it over the fucking top.

The cafeteria door swung shut behind her as I finally allowed myself to start laughing and Lauren broke into a shrill scream.

---

**AN**: Dear God, writing about Lauren was _hard_. I picked her because not a lot is known about her in canon, other than that she likes Tyler, but jeez. I just kept imagining _my _Lauren and I was like "GAH THIS MUST END!" So I'm sorry if it sucked. The future lemons will be better, once we get into the actual pairings. :D

I have a plan to bring Edward further into the story, but it's going to have to wait just a bit, so those Edward fans out there, hang in there! It'll happen!

In last chapter's AN, I told you guys that "Wet Sand" fit this story. I was wrong. iTunes went all wacky on my song titles and the one that I was listening to is actually "She Looks to Me" by the Red Hot Chili Peppers. "Wet Sand" _does_ kind of sort of, on some level, fit the story, but "She Looks to Me" is much closer. Haha. Sorry for any possible confusion. I actually have about five songs for the playlist now. A few more and I'll link it on my profile with the others. If anyone has any suggestions, please feel free to submit them! 8Dd

There's a link on my profile for the shirt I used as inspiration for Rosalie's. Because I suck at describing outfits. Sigh.

/bribes reviewers with eternal gratitude... and cookies. How the hell can you say no to cookies? Come on.

PS – Don't drive drunk, youngens. The characters obviously survived, but you might not and I would hate to lose any of you. Either get a designated driver, like I've done once before, or walk, like I've done a few times before. Or you could sleep in your car after you've lost your shoes and no longer have the option of walking, like I've done _many _times before.


	6. Round Six

**Not Without A Fight  
**Annaleise Marie

**Round Six**

**AN**: Ahhhh. The sweet smell of new chapter. :D I tried to finish it quickly, because you guys made me so incredibly happy with your feedback! Nine reviews in less than twenty-four hours? I couldn't believe it. I told many people about it who... most likely didn't care. Haha.

Anyway, I own a laptop adapter that only works if the cord is bent _just so_, and I'm praying that it will hold up until around Christmas, so I don't have to pay forty bucks for one. If it doesn't, you may not hear from me for up to a month because with my bills, I don't have forty dollars to spend on a freaking cord. I would if I owned Twilight, but I don't. That belongs to Stephenie Meyer.

---

**EPOV**

After three days, and no word on what the hell had caused that scene in the cafeteria, I was about to go out of my mind trying to figure out what happened. I asked everyone I could think of. Alice, Bella, Edward, even Jasper. All of them looked at me like I must have lost my mind, but didn't give me an answer. Well, all of them except Jasper, who informed me that I was, in no uncertain terms, way at the top of his shit list and that if he could afford to get suspended for a week, he would knock me flat on my back.

I had no idea what was going on.

Because I'm Emmett Fucking McCarty, and I am as dumb as a bag of rocks. I wouldn't find that out until much later, though.

It got to the point by fourth period study hall that I was willing to actually ask Rosalie about it. Of course, I didn't know how dangerous that would be. The only problem as far as I was concerned would be finding her. By luck of the draw, our paths didn't cross at all during the day. She even seemed to be missing from lunch most of the time.

And that was how I wound up talking to Mrs. Cope. The only part of Rosalie's schedule that I knew was first period administrative assisting, and I had obviously missed that. So my option was charming Mrs. Cope into telling me where she is. It didn't take much. I got the feeling that Mrs. Cope was a cougar.

"I'm not really allowed to give out other student's schedules," she said, biting her bottom lip. I smiled.

"But Mrs. Cope, it's really important," I said softly. It wasn't a lie. I considered it to be _very _important. Because I am Emmett Fucking McCarty, and I am a nosy son of a bitch.

"Well... What do you need to see her about?" she asked. Time to turn up the charm, and lie my ass off.

"Well," I said, leaning on the counter to bring myself down to eye level with her. "I live next door to her, and her car is in the shop—" I sincerely hoped that she hadn't had any reason to venture to the student parking lot that day, because Rosalie's car was definitely fucking conspicuous enough, "— so I was going to give her a ride home, but I forgot that I have a doctor's appointment after school, so I won't be able to take her home."

"Why can't you tell her between classes?" she asked. I smiled sheepishly.

"Well, that's why I need to know where she is. I don't know where her class is, so I don't know if I'll be able to find her between classes," I explained. She nodded.

"Well, I guess that makes sense," she said, reaching for the Rolladex that held the student's schedules.

"Thank you," I said. "I _really _appreciate it, Mrs. Cope." She looked at me for a second before blushing and looking down to flip through the Rolladex.

"Let's see... This period she has Computers Aided Design in the library," she said. I nodded, smiling warmly at her.

"Thanks again, ma'am," I said. She blushed.

"Oh, don't call me ma'am, Emmett. It makes me feel old."

"Well, we wouldn't want that. After all, you're much too vibrant to be considered old," I said. That's right, Emmett. Lay it on thick.

---

The cool thing about the library is that even if you don't have a class there, you can still go in. I couldn't believe my luck, and it got even better when I arrived and saw that Rosalie was sitting at the end of the back row, the two computers next to her unoccupied.

I sat down, logging on to the computer. She glanced at me, her jaw tightening.

"What are you doing here?" she hissed.

"I happen to be working on a research paper. What are you doing?" I answered cheerfully.

"I'm in _class_. Surely you've heard of it," she hissed, turning back to the slide show that she was working on.

"You know, that's the kind of attitude that results in people having the high-quality cafeteria food smeared on their faces," I said. She glared at her computer screen and turning red. Ah-hah. The subject is breached. "So what happened with that, anyway?"

"That's not in any way your business," she answered quietly.

"I think it is," I said. Judging by the way people were reacting to my questions about it, I had _something _to do with it. I just couldn't figure out what.

"Yeah, well, I think you're full of shit, but I try to keep that to myself," she said.

"You _never_ keep that to yourself," I pointed out, laughing.

"Go away, little man," she said, rolling her eyes.

_Little man? _I had been called a lot of things in my life, but I had _never_ been called _that_. Nothing about me was in any way, shape, or form little.

"What is the big deal with telling me?"

"What is the big deal with finding out?" she rebutted.

"Because it was fucking hilarious," I said. "And I would like to know what I should credit for that enjoyable point in my life."

"Credit Lauren," she spat, her voice unusually sharp, even for her. "Credit Lauren for _every _enjoyable point." Without looking at me she exited her program and snatched up her purse before leaving the library.

What the fuck?

Oh shit. She knew. And if there was one thing that would stop a girl from sleeping with you quicker than anything else, it was letting her find out exactly who had been there before.

I was fucked. In a really bad way.

---

After thinking about it until the end of the day, I couldn't decide why the hell it should matter to Rosalie who I fucked. Past that kiss, which was more of a punishment than a reward, in my opinion, she had given me no indication that she gave a fuck what I did or what I thought.

I got out to my Jeep and my day instantly got worse when I saw Lauren leaning against it. Good lord, I did not want to deal with this right now.

I thought about ducking back around the building before she could see me but well, that would leave her with my Jeep, and given that there was a pretty good chance that she had already seen me... Well, you know, the whole woman scorned thing. I really didn't need the Jeep keyed again. It had been known to happen and I was getting sick of having to pay a small fortune every six months to get it repainted. It was like every place I lived, some girl thought she was the first one to do it. Couldn't they just egg the damned thing for once?

Although, if I had to do it again, maybe I could try out a new colour. Like blue. I liked blue.

As I got closer to her I realized that holy shit, did she look pissed.

"I just want you to know that I think it's really shitty that you laughed at what Rosalie did," she said and I almost laughed again. That's what this was about. Fuck, I had thought that it would be some shit about me not calling her or something.

"It was funny," I said before I could stop myself.

"No, it wasn't," she said.

"Sorry," I said, and I really was, in a way. I was sorry that I had offended her, but hell, it _was _funny.

"Luckily for you, I found a way that you can make it up to me," she said, seeming to brighten, and I wondered if that whole pissed-off thing wasn't just some sort of act to get to this part. Somehow, the fake anger was nowhere near as sexy as when girls were genuinely angry.

"Oh you did?" I asked, only mildly interested.

"Yes," she said, smiling flirtatiously. "You can take me to a movie this weekend."

Fuck. She was one of _them_. The girls that thought that a drunken party hookup was something more. Jesus fucking Christ.

"I don't know, Lauren," I said. "You're nice and all—" but you are causing me major problems in the Rosalie department "— but I'm kind of busy this weekend."

"Oh come on, it's two hours," she said, pouting. I felt like bashing my head against the window of the Jeep.

"Lauren—"

"Please?" she asked and I sighed. What the fuck ever. I probably shouldn't let her think I had any real interest in her, but I got the feeling that she wasn't going to go away if I didn't just agree.

"Fine," I said. "I'll call you."

She smiled, looking satisfied with herself and scribbled her number on a piece of notebook paper. I was glad she didn't ask for my number. I really did not want her to be able to just call me whenever she felt like it. I would definitely be star-sixty-sevening that shit when I called her.

Yeah, I was going to call her instead of just blowing her off. Because I'm Emmett Fucking McCarty, and I know that there are more fun ways to get a girl to leave me alone. And besides, for all of her annoying actions, she was a fucking good lay, and if I played my cards right I might be able to hit that again before running her off.

She stood up on her tiptoes to kiss me and I fought the urge to roll my eyes. Jesus Christ.

I got into the Jeep when she finally left and started the engine, letting my eyes sweep over the parking lot, unexpectedly spotting Rosalie in her own car, glaring fucking daggers at me.

---

**RPOV**

I wasn't entirely sure why Emmett and Lauren were annoying me so much.

Well. No. That's only half true. I knew why Lauren was annoying me. It was the same reason she had always annoyed me: She was a skanky-ass cunt. Very simple.

Emmett was more complicated. I wasn't sure why, but it grated my very last nerve to see him with her as she so _obviously_ flirted with him. I had thought at first that my warning to Lauren would be enough, but when Emmett allowed it, even _encouraged _it, from the way it looked, who was I to tell her where the line was? It was now his business. And that pissed me off beyond belief.

Knowing that it was his business didn't stop me from wanting to grab her by the hair and slam her to the ground when she stretched up to kiss him.

Who the fuck did she think she was. I had made it clear that I wasn't done playing with him yet.

After she walked away, Emmett's eyes fell on mine for a minute before I started my car and sped off.

It would have been much more satisfying if he didn't live right fucking beside me.

---

For the next two weeks, I dutifully ignored both Emmett and Lauren. It wasn't that hard to ignore Lauren, although she had taken to smirking at me every time she saw me, and I could practically hear her singing, "I won, I won, you lost, you lost, I won," over and over again.

I wanted to slap that smirk right off of her face. I came very close to it, in fact, when she actually dared to shoot me a smug smile as she walked with Emmett to his Jeep after school one day before kissing him goodbye.

Needless to say, by the end of two weeks, I was in a very bad mood.

"You need a girl's day," Alice said knowingly one night. "We should go to Port Angeles Saturday. Do some shopping, get our nails done... Spend a few hours at the salon."

"I don't want to go," I said. She gaped at me, clearly surprised. Alice and I had become friends by bonding over shopping and shit. Before that, she was just my little brother's girlfriend.

"Too bad," Jasper said with a note of finality in his voice. "You've been walking around in a pissy mood for two weeks now. You need to get out and do something."

"I'm always in a pissy mood," I pointed out. He shook his head.

"Not like this. Usually it's just attitude. This is true anger. Go out, get it out of your system."

I nodded. Jasper was usually right about this sort of thing. He was usually pretty good at reading people's moods and figuring out what will change them.

"Yay!" Alice squealed. "This is going to be so much fun! It seems like forever since we've just hung out."

"Yeah," I said. I couldn't force myself to get worked up about it and I shot an apologetic smile at Alice. She shrugged.

"Well, I'm excited about it," she said.

"Yeah. I think I'm just tired," I said. "I'm going to go to bed. Good night, guys."

"Sleep tight," Alice chirped, snuggling up against Jasper.

I entered my room, shucking my jeans and throwing them in the hamper before digging a pair of sweatpants out of my dresser and crawling into bed. I was truly exhausted. The light from Emmett's room bathed mine in a dim glow, and I found it oddly comforting.

---

"Rosalie, let's see a movie," Alice said, pressing the button to trip the walk signal at the corner. We were on our sixth hour in Port Angeles, and I welcomed her suggestion. I wouldn't turn down the opportunity to sit for awhile.

"What do you want to see?" I asked as we crossed to the street to the theater.

"Saw VI," she said immediately.

"God, Alice, isn't that something you'd rather see with Jasper?" I asked, staring at the poster in distaste.

"Oh please, Rosalie, you know he wouldn't watch that with me. He says that when I watch things like that, I keep him up all night, making him investigate every time I hear a sound. Which is totally an exaggeration," she said. "Please?"

"Fine," I sighed and she smiled, skipping to the box office. "But you're buying me popcorn," I informed her when I caught up.

"Sure, sure," she said. Suddenly she was gripping my sleeve and jerking me around to face in the other direction. "Oh my God. Okay. In a second I want you to _casually _look to the right and tell me if I'm really seeing what I think I'm seeing."

I jerked my head around, ignoring her hissed protests at my probably too-obvious movement, and felt my blood immediately start to boil.

Lauren Fucking Mallory, the great slut, was walking to one of the theaters with Tyler Crowley, his arm around her waist.

Oh, that bitch.

"Come on," I said, grabbing Alice and dragging her after them.

"Oh God, Rosalie! No!" she wailed when she saw what theater they were going to. "I don't want to see New Moon! It freaks me out that the characters have our names! I didn't even make it through the first movie!"

"Shh. They'll hear us," I hissed, otherwise ignoring her protests.

"But they even look like us!"

"Please. Nikki Reed _wishes _she was this sexy. Now shush."

"But you told me we could watch Saw," she whined.

"Alice, if I have to ask you again to be quiet, I'm going to tape your mouth shut," I threatened.

We sat down two rows behind Lauren and Tyler, Alice sinking into her seat and crossing her arms, pouting. I rolled my eyes and focused on Lauren and Tyler. Jeez, the two couldn't even wait for the lights to go down before they were practically attacking each other. Try for some fucking discretion, people.

How _dare _she?

"Okay, now that your suspicions are confirmed, can we go see Saw?" Alice asked in a whisper. I narrowed my eyes and she sighed. "Fine. But I don't know how exactly you're benefiting from watching this."

"I'm not _benefiting_. I'm _plotting_," I said. It was true. I was plotting exactly how hard I would have to pound her head against the floor to crack the fucking cement.

---

**AN**: Oooooh drama.

I'm not entirely happy with how this chapter turned out but it seemed like each time I edited it, it just became more of a mess. So I decided to just quit and accept it as is. Hope it wasn't too big of a letdown. :3

So now, I'd love to hear your thoughts. The next chapter's going to be pretty heavy, so get ready for it! Actually, it's already done, and if the response to this chapter is anything like the response to the last one, I'll post it tonight. /winkwinknudgenudge

/bribes reviewers with promises of Emmett/Rosalie sexeh times. Eventually. XD


	7. Round Seven

**Not Without A Fight  
**Annaleise Marie

**Round Seven**

**AN**: This is a chapter that I've been planning for awhile. It was actually written before chapter five. Haha. It's a pretty important plot point, so I guess I was just too excited about it to wait. XD

So now, on with the show! I own a toothbrush that sings "Hakuna Matata" to me while I brush my teeth, because I'm apparently four, but I do not own Twilight. That belongs to Stephenie Meyer.

---

**EPOV**

I never leave the house on the eighteenth of November. This year, it's the seven-year anniversary of my dad's death. I don't sink into depression or anything... I was too young when he died for that. I always stay home to take care of my mom.

That first year, when I was twelve, I went to a friend's house for a birthday party. He only lived a block away, so I wasn't worried when Mom didn't come to get me and walked home. When I got there, the house was wrecked. All of the family photos had been pulled from the walls and, by the looks of it, tossed across the room. Every surface in the house was bare, the contents of tabletops and counters scattered across the floor as though someone had simply swept them off. The living room smelled bitter, but I wouldn't know for a few more years what that smell was, or what amber liquid had soaked the carpet to cause it.

I found my mom in her room. She was on her bed, curled up, the covers strewn across the room. She looked up at me when she heard the door open, her eyes red and her face tear-stained, and she patted the bed, signaling that I should sit down.

"Do you miss your Dad, Emmett?" she asked. I shrugged. Her breath smelled like the living room carpet. "God, I miss him," she said quietly before she started crying again.

I stayed with her that night, and she held me, alternating between crying and telling me stories about us and Dad when I was little. It was one of those bittersweet memories, that you appreciate, and are glad happened, but wish could have happened under different circumstances, even if that's not possible.

In the years since then, I've perfected the art of making the house safe for his anniversary. One of the biggest jobs is going around the house and packing up the family pictures. I guess it was because Dad was in a lot of them, but they always seemed to get damaged on the anniversary. I learned by the third year to take them down.

That's what I was doing when I heard the doorbell. I opened it on my way past, my arms full of picture frames. Rosalie was standing there, and fuck, as nice as it always was to see her, I _really_ did not have the time or patience to deal with any shit today and well, she hadn't really been in a perfect mood since Mike's party.

"Rosalie, as much as I would love to battle it out with you today, now's not really a good time," I said, turning my back on her and using my foot to push the door closed, not really caring if I seemed rude or not. She caught it before it shut and followed me in, looking around.

"Are you moving again?" she asked, glancing at the stack of picture frames that I was placing in a box in the corner of the room.

"We usually last longer than a month in one place," I said.

"Then what are you doing?"

"Not that it's really your business, but I'm anniversary-proofing the house," I said, grabbing the box and going upstairs to get the pictures from the hall. "And I have a lot of shit to do, and not a lot of time."

"Can I help?" she asked. I glanced at her, suspicious for a moment before shrugging.

"Sure. Take down all of the pictures from the hall here; I'm going to get the ones from my mom's room," I said, sitting the box down and walking away. When I came back, she had already taken them down and stacked them neatly in the box. I put Mom's pictures in and then picked the box up, taking it to my room and sitting it in the back of my closet before turning around to see that Rosalie had followed me in.

"You guys sure do anniversaries differently than anyone I've ever seen," she said, smirking. I sighed.

"This isn't that kind of anniversary, Rosalie," I said.

"What is it, then?"

"My dad died seven years ago today, okay?" I said, not looking at her as I knelt on the floor, reaching under my bed for the box of plastic glasses. Mom hated them. She said that they were tacky, and if we were going to use glasses like civilized people, they were going to be made out of glass. But the problem with glass is... it breaks. And the problem with broken glass is that it cuts people. So once a year, the plastic cups get dragged out.

"I'm sorry," I heard Rosalie say quietly. She sounded uncomfortable. Good. She shouldn't be here. She didn't need to see what was going to happen.

"It's not like you killed him," I said, finally locating the glasses and standing up to take them down to the kitchen.

"Emmett—"

"Why are you here, Rosalie?" I asked, starting to lose my patience. I only ask that people leave me alone one day out of the year. I didn't go out looking for her, and she hasn't seemed to be missing me over the past few weeks, so why the hell was she showing up _now_, of all times?

"Yeah. I guess Lauren wouldn't like it, would she?" she spat.

"You know, as attractive as jealousy _always _is," I said sarcastically, "that's not really your business."

"Alice and I saw her, you know, the other night. She was at the movies with Tyler," she said. I laughed.

"I really can't find it in me to care," I said before going into the garage to grab another box for the glasses.

"You don't care that they were all over each other?"

"Not really. Lauren can do whatever the hell she wants," I said, going to the pantry and reaching up to pull the liquor bottles out and put them on a lower shelf. Mom was quite a bit shorter than me, and one year she pulled one of the shelves down trying to get to the liquor. Luckily it was just the shelf that held cereal and shit. Still, it didn't need to happen again. I looked in the fridge to check if there was juice or soda or anything to mix the liquor with and cursed when I didn't find anything. I could usually trick Mom into drinking less if the alcohol could be diluted.

"So did you guys break up?" Rosalie asked, following me to the front door.

"What?" I asked, confused as I grabbed my keys.

"You and Lauren, did you break up?"

"Not that it's your business, _again_, but we were never going out," I said, listening to make sure she shut the door as she followed me out.

"Oh. I just assumed, after the party—"

"Yeah, well, everyone has to learn what assuming does sometime," I said, opening the driver's side door and getting in. She opened the passenger's side door and climbed in, shutting the door. "What are you doing?"

"I'm going with you," she said.

"Rosalie," I said quietly, breathing hard through my nose to try to stay calm. "I don't think you're really understanding just how bad of a day this is for this shit."

"So where are we going?" she asked, and for a moment I was struck by how completely our roles had reversed.

"The store," I answered shortly. She nodded.

"So..." she said after a few minutes. "Why didn't you tell me that you and Lauren weren't dating?"

"Why didn't you ask?" I countered. Because I'm Emmett Fucking McCarty, and I'm a stupid bastard. Or at least, that's what her answer led me to believe.

"Because I didn't want to hear that you really had chosen Lauren Mallory over me," she said quietly. Jesus fucking Christ, I couldn't deal with this today. I could point out at least ten different reasons why this whole thing was ridiculous. Instead I took the spiteful route.

"So your pride was so badly hurt that you took the first opportunity you could find to hurt me back?" I demanded. Her eyes widened.

"What?"

"If I _had_ been dating Lauren, don't you think it would have hurt me to find out she went out with Tyler? But I guess that didn't matter as long as you could say in your own little backhanded way that I should have picked you," I spat. She shook her head.

"I didn't think—"

"No," I said, parking the car and killing the ignition. "You didn't."

Mad as I was, and stressed out as I was when I looked at my watch and saw that Mom would be home in an hour and a half, I still went around the Jeep and helped Rosalie down.

Because I'm Emmett Fucking McCarty, and I'm a fucking gentleman.

That, and I didn't have time to take her to the hospital and still get home in time to finish packing up the fucking glasses.

---

**RPOV**

I watched as Emmett packed up the last of the kitchen glasses, his back to me. He hadn't said anything since we had arrived at the grocery store, and I couldn't think of anything to say that would make the situation better.

Nanuq rested her great head on my knee, looking up at me with big, sympathetic eyes. Even the dog seemed to know I had fucked up. She whined.

"Get out!" Emmett suddenly commanded and I looked up to see that he had turned around and was looking in my direction. My breath caught in my throat and I jumped up as he stalked towards me, panic setting in. I tensed reflexively, squeezing my eyes shut.

But nothing ever happened. I heard another low whine from Nanuq and then the storm door slid open and then shut again. I opened my eyes to see the dog on the other side of the glass and Emmett looking at me in surprise.

"What the hell's wrong with you?" he asked, but despite the strong words, he sounded concerned. I blushed.

"Nothing," I said, forcing my voice to stay steady, despite the fact that my heart had yet to slow and my tongue felt like it was stuck to the roof of my mouth. He looked from me to Nanuq and then back again, comprehension dawning on his face.

"Fuck, Rosalie, I'm not going to throw you out like a dog," he said, shaking his head.

"I didn't... I just thought that you were..." How could I explain what I had thought? I wasn't even aware of thinking it. One minute, Emmett was coming towards me and the next it was Royce. I blinked a few times, willing away the tears that always came with those moments when the memories snuck up on me.

"Rosalie?" Emmett asked. I shook my head, sitting back down and looking at the table. I heard chair legs scraping against the floor. "Hey." I looked up at the soft word and saw Emmett sitting beside me, leaning in, trying like hell by the looks of it to meet my eyes. "What's going on?"

"Nothing," I said. "I should be going home. I'm sorry for bothering you and everything." I stood up, leaving the kitchen as short as I could without actually running. I almost made it to the front door when I felt Emmett's hand close around my wrist, making me stop.

"Do you really want to leave?" he asked quietly. I shook my head. "Then stay," he said, and it was so simple, so easy, that I was sure for a minute I had to have heard wrong until he turned and lead me up the stairs, back to his room.

"Is your mom going to wonder why all of the pictures and everything are gone?" I asked, hoping to get him to talk about anything besides where the conversation _had_ been going.

"No, she's... She's kind of the reason I take them down," he said, stretching out on his bed, his back against the headboard. "Generally, she's got it pretty together, you know? But on dad's anniversary, it all just kind of goes to hell."

"I can't really blame her," I said. "It has to be hard on her."

"I've never really blamed her for it. I just worry about her. I mean, the way she moves around, even if I go to a college near her, chances are she won't stay there. So after this year, I'm not sure I'll be able to be around to keep an eye on her," he said. His eyes met mine and I think it was the first time I saw him look truly sad. I hadn't known him long, but it still seemed like such a foreign expression on him. He always had this air of casualty, a somehow devilishly innocent look... To see him worried, or upset, or whatever this was, looked strange.

"Are you going to sit down, or just stand there all night staring at me?" he asked with a slight smile.

"All night?"

"Well, it's kind of either now or never. If you don't go before my mom gets here, she may catch you trying to leave later and make you cuddle with her while she tells you stories about my dad."

"Really?"

"Happened every year until I was sixteen," he said. "That's when I finally perfected preparing the house and just started hiding out in my room. So, are you going to sit down and hide out with me, or take your chances at escaping?"

"I'll stay," I said quickly, sitting down beside him. I didn't really think about it. I just knew that I didn't want to be away from him right now.

---

**EPOV**

"_Get out!" I yelled at Nan as she whined, turning to put her outside. She whined again and tried to pull away as I hooked my fingers through her collar, but left without a fight once the door was open. God knows, Mom wouldn't need any help tearing up the house tonight._

_I turned back around after shutting the door to see Rosalie standing, her hands formed into fists by her sides, her entire body tensed, eyes screwed shut. After a moment, they opened again, although she still seemed on edge._

"_What the hell's wrong with you?" I asked, kicking myself almost immediately for the way the words came out. But Jesus fucking Christ, what was going on? She acted like... "Fuck, Rosalie, I'm not going to throw you out like a dog."_

"_I didn't... I just thought you were..."_

What the hell had that been? Even as Rosalie sat beside me, making conversation about my mom, I couldn't stop wondering. I wasn't sure if I was blowing it up in my mind, or if it really was as strange as it seemed to me. This day wasn't a good one for me to judge things like that. Even my own reactions to things were off.

We were quiet when my mom's car pulled into the driveway and I strained to hear her movement through the house. She definitely stopped in the kitchen, and then it sounded like she went to the living room for a minute before I heard her bedroom door shut down the hall from mine.

"Well, looks like you're stuck here," I said. Rosalie shrugged.

"That's okay, I guess."

"You guess?" I asked, grinning.

"It could be worse."

"Why Rosalie Hale, I do believe you're flirting with me," I teased her. She blushed. She _fucking blushed_.

"Right. That would be too easy," I conceded after a moment. She rolled her eyes. "But still, it's kind of late for you to play hard to get," I added. "I mean, after all, you did say that you wanted me to choose you."

"I did not say that," she scoffed. "I said that I didn't want to think that you chose Lauren Mallory over me. And that was out of concern for your own tastes."

"Yeah, that makes sense," I said, laughing. She glared at me. "For the record, though, I would choose you." She stared at me, her eyes wide, and I smiled, leaning forward to kiss her forehead. "Over all of them. Every time."

Because I'm Emmett Fucking McCarty, and I couldn't be any fucking smoother if I were Kellan Lutz.

"God, you're such a fucking cheeseball," she said, laughing.

"You love it," I said. She shook her head. "No, you definitely do. Don't lie."

She started to laugh but it was cut short when a loud shattering sound cut through the air. I sighed, sliding down to the foot of the bed and walking towards the door.

"I'll be right back."

---

_Well. This was new_.

I've seen my mom break a lot of things on this day throughout the years. She has such skill for it that we've had to replace two refrigerators and a dryer.

But this. _This _was almost impressive. I didn't even know it was possible to throw a plastic glass so hard that it breaks a glass shower door.

My mom was on her knees amidst the glass, hunched over with her head in her hands. How the fuck was she this smashed this fast? Walking carefully into the bathroom, the smell hit me hard and I realized just how she had managed it: the glass had been full of pure, undiluted, eighty proof vodka.

She looked up when the glass crunched under my shoes, and instantly started crying harder.

"I'm sorry, honey," she said, her words slurred and muffled behind her hand. I shook my head, grabbing a hand towel off of the sink. She tried to stand up and I put a hand on her shoulder, keeping her down.

"Stay there. Were you already sitting when the glass broke?" I asked, using the towel to gather up the shards scattered around her. She nodded. Well, at least that was something. She hadn't fallen down onto any of it. When I had finally cleared the glass from around her I hoisted her to her feet and started helping her back into her bedroom.

"I'm sorry," she said again.

"Don't worry about it, Mom," I said dutifully. I won't deny that I hated seeing her this, but that wasn't what she was apologizing for. She was apologizing because I had to clean up after her, and that I didn't mind.

"You take care of me," she observed, and now I couldn't tell if she was simply more drunk than I had thought, or about to pass out. "Your father would be _so_ proud." She squinted at me for a moment before adding, "You look so much like him, you know."

"Yeah, Mom," I said, helping her into her bed and covering her up. "Try to get some sleep, okay? You'll feel better in the morning."

"Thank you, honey," she mumbled. I was walking to the door to go get the broom and the toolbox to take the rest of the shattered door off of its tracks when she spoke again. "Emmett, honey?"

"Yeah?"

"Did something break?" she asked and I paused, staring into the darkness of her room.

"No, Mom. Everything's okay."

---

By the time I finally got the bathroom cleaned up and the shower door removed and taken out to the garage, I had been out of my room for a little over an hour. I half expected Rosalie to be gone when I got back. Instead, I found her rummaging through my bookshelf.

"Something interest you?" I asked and she jumped, spinning around, still clutching the book that she had been looking at. "Other than me, of course. That one's a given," I said, grinning.

"The Last Vampire?" she asked, holding up the book. I nodded. "I didn't think you read much."

"I read things that entertain me."

"It's a pretty serious book, for you anyway, isn't it?" she asked. I wasn't sure if she was trying to offend me or if it was in her nature to do it accidentally.

"I like the main character," I said. She raised an eyebrow. "She's strong, and she doesn't take anyone's shit. But she's also compassionate," I said. "She has a strong sense of justice, and she doesn't harm those that haven't wronged her."

"I never saw her like that," she said, turning the book over in her hands to scan the back cover.

"No?" I asked, amused. I wondered how Rosalie couldn't see the parallels between her and the character.

"No. She's wrathful, and arrogant," she said. "She believes herself infallible, and yet she's brought down by something small, her love for a man. How strong could she be if she allowed that to happen?"

"You think love is a small thing?"

"I think love is a temporary thing, and not worth throwing your life away over," she clarified. I laughed.

"You are probably the most cynical person I've ever met in my life," I said, taking the book from her and reshelving it.

"No, I'm the most realistic person you've met," she corrected me, smirking.

I wanted to ask her what had made her so cynical – or realistic, as she put it. I was pretty sure most girls her age spent a large part of their time imagining when they would fall in love, get married, have kids; all that shit.

But honestly, I was too tired to deal with it, and knowing Rosalie, I wouldn't get a straight answer anyway.

"You exhaust me," I informed her, collapsing onto my bed.

"It's only seven," she said. "You're getting old, Grandpa."

"Your second-hand cynicism makes me feel like I'm ninety-four," I informed her, throwing my arm over my eyes to block out the overhead light. She didn't answer me, and after a second I felt the bed shift as she sat down.

"Hey Emmett?" she asked after a second.

"Hmm?"

"Are you going to sleep?"

"Probably."

"Can I borrow a pair of sweatpants or something?"

"You would be swimming in my sweatpants," I informed her.

"I don't want to sleep in jeans," she said, poking my leg.

"You're going to sleep, Grandma?" I asked, smiling as I uncovered my eyes to look at her. She rolled her eyes. "You know, one day those are going to stick that way."

"Come on, just let me borrow some pants," she said, poking me again. I groaned, standing up and walking to my closet, pulling out a pair of sweatpants that I knew had a drawstring. She was still going to look like MC Hammer in them, though. Heh. That could be funny.

I tossed them to her and pointed to my bathroom door, collapsing on the bed once she had left to change. Fuck, it's been a long day.

Every year I wonder if I should resent my mom for her behaviour. On one level, I feel like she's been robbing me of my chances to mourn my father's death since he passed away, but then I feel shitty for even considering that and I always push the thought out as quickly as it arrives.

I looked up as the bathroom door opened and Rosalie emerged, tying the drawstring on my pants as tight as it would go. I was right. They had become MC Hammer pants. Add to that the fact that there was about five inches of fabric under her feet, and well— she looked pretty damned adorable, actually. I had almost forgotten how much I liked seeing girls in my clothes. The first time I even saw it wasn't that long ago. The girl I went to junior prom with had put my shirt on to go to the bathroom in the middle of the night, back in our last house, when I didn't have my own.

While I had been right about the pants, I was wrong about it being amusing. It was nothing short of torturous. And she was going to be sleeping like that. Presumably in my bed. Mere fucking inches from me. Jesus fucking Christ. I should have let her go home.

But for once, I didn't want to be alone on this day, and as she settled herself onto the bed next to me, I had never been more grateful to be near someone. She looked at me with those fucking big blue eyes, almost expectantly, and I wanted to kiss her – goodnight, good morning, hello, goodbye, it didn't matter – but I couldn't do it. I was once more frozen.

One day I would work up the nerve, but for now she had successfully changed me from Emmett Fucking McCary, ladies' man extraordinaire into Emmett Fucking McCarty, nervous fumbling fourteen-year-old.

Fucking talent.

---

**AN**: I am actually fairly happy with this chapter. Go me!

Were you happy with it? You should totally drop me a few lines in a review, telling me what you liked. I love to hear which parts people enjoyed. :D

The book discussed, "The Last Vampire," is by Christopher Pike, and it has been a few years since I read it, but both Rosalie and Emmett's opinions on the main character are things I remember thinking about her as I read it. I remember it being a very good book, so I would recommend it, I guess.

/bribes reviewers with many sweet nothings


	8. Round Eight

**Not Without A Fight  
**Annaleise Marie

**Round Eight**

**AN**: This story now officially has a soundtrack – the link is on my profile with the other OSTs. Pay special attention to "Calling You". It will be important later. /hint hint And if you listen to it, you'll find hints as to things that are going to happen in this story – for the little bit of advanced planning I've done, anyway. Haha. It's not finished yet, and I'm still planning to add more tracks, so remember to check in regularly!

Super-special love and thanks to **babycyd94**, who gave me a TON of inspiration for this chapter. Basically, she gave me like three plot points and then I filled out the detail and connected them. XD So much love to her!

This chapter is a special Thanksgiving edition, even for those of you who don't celebrate it, and I raced to get it out in time just to show you how thankful I am to you all. :3

And now, I'll stop rambling and just say: I own a tacky orange teapot that I couldn't resist even though I don't drink tea, but I do not own Twilight. That belongs to Stephenie Meyer.

---

**RPOV**

_Solid_.

Something's wrong with my mattress. It's turned into a rock overnight. Did I fall asleep on the floor? Or roll out of bed at some point? I feel like I would remember that. I flattened my palm against whatever was under me.

_Warm_.

I snuggled into whatever it was, enjoying the warmth radiating off of it as I ran my hand down it, trying to figure out without having to open my eyes to the punishing sun what the hell it was. As my nails raked over it, it shuddered a little, and the part of it that was wrapped around my shoulders tightened.

_Safe_.

I didn't know why, but even after I deduced that the thing was alive, I was okay with it. I felt secure.

I finally opened my eyes, trying to force them to adjust, blinking the blurriness out before looking up.

---

**EPOV**

_Dammit_, I thought as I slowly regained consciousness and realized that I wasn't alone in my bed. There was someone decidedly feminine practically wrapped around my body. Her leg was thrown over my hips, and she was laying half on top of me, one hand flat against my chest.

_What did I do last night?_

I didn't remember drinking. Had I been drinking? I couldn't say for sure but hell – this girl got here somehow. Her hand moved, her nails running down my chest to my stomach, and I couldn't help but shudder. Jesus fucking Christ.

_Please dear God, don't let it be Lauren_, I prayed as I slowly opened my eyes. Rosalie's were opening blearily to meet mine.

_Rosalie?_

"Oh, right," I muttered as I remembered. She looked confused. "How'd you sleep?" I asked, moving the arm that was around her shoulders and allowing her to disentangle herself. I couldn't think of anything else to say.

She didn't answer. She was staring at my alarm clock.

"It's eleven o'clock!" she suddenly shouted. Eleven... That meant we had slept something like sixteen hours.

"So I take it that means you slept well?" I asked. She glared at me.

"It _means_ that we're three and a half hours late for school," she informed me before standing up and hurrying to the bathroom. She emerged less than a minute later in her jeans, setting my sweatpants down on the bed beside me. "What are you doing? Get ready! We're late!"

"Yeah, except it's Sunday," I said. She blinked at me.

"No, it's not."

"Yes, it is."

"No, it's not," she repeated as she took her cell phone out of her pocket and checked the display. "It's... Sunday," she said, sounding incredibly surprised. I laughed.

"So are you always this disoriented when you wake up?" I asked. She glared at me. Jeez. What a way to start the day. Don't I at least get a few moments of peace before the anger starts? "Come on, sit down, calm yourself. I'm going to go check and make sure Mom got up for work. I'll be right back."

She nodded and I got up, letting her take my place on the bed and making my way to my mom's room. She was gone, the bed made, and a note on the dresser.

_Emmett—  
Please remember to put the pictures back up and pack up those plastic cups. Also, could you please go to the hardware store and get a new shower door? The credit card is in the planter by the front door.  
Love, Mom_

Well, it looked like everything was back to normal. Mom's hiding the credit cards and pretending as if nothing of great interest happened. Order is restored to the McCarty household.

I went downstairs to dig the credit card out of the planter before going back to my room. Rosalie was just leaving when I got to the door.

"I should be going home," she said. "Jasper will be wondering what the hell happened to me."

"Yeah, I have errands to do today," I said. And then there was silence; that same tense silence that had filled the Jeep that first night when we got back from Port Angeles. Then, before I knew it, the moment passed and Rosalie was walking to the stairs.

_Grow some balls, Emmett_, I scolded myself.

Turns out I didn't need to. Rosalie had enough balls for both of us. She spun suddenly, stalking back to me. Her hand came up to pull my head down, but it didn't need to. I was already leaning down towards her, and just like the first time, when my lips met hers the world stopped for a second before it sped up again. And like a fucking girl, I got lost in the moment. We may have kissed for a few seconds, but then again it may have been a few hours. I wasn't sure anymore. She left me breathless, and by the time I could truly process that she had pulled away, she was disappearing down the stairs, throwing one last smile over her shoulder.

Holy shit.

---

**RPOV**

"Somebody's in trouble," Jasper muttered from the couch as I walked through the living room towards the stairs.

"What?" I asked

"Mom and Dad got home last night. They decided to come back for Thanksgiving before their next trip. And guess who wasn't here all night?" he said. I groaned. They _would _pick last night to come home. The one night in the last two weeks since they last stopped in between business trips that I _wasn't_ at home.

"Where were you?" I heard my mother hiss and I spun around. Where the hell had she come from?

"Bella's," I answered automatically.

"You couldn't leave a note?" she asked.

"I'm sorry," I said. "I didn't know you were coming home."

"Don't ever do that again. You scared us to death," she said and I nodded. "I mean it. If this happens again, you'll be coming with me and your father on our trips and I'll be homeschooling you."

You'd have to know my mom to realize just how much of a threat that really was.

"When did the Andersons get a dog?" she asked.

"What?"

"There's a big German Shepherd in their backyard."

"Oh. That's Emmett's dog, Nanuq," I said.

"Who's Emmett?" she asked.

"Emmett McCarty. He and his mom just moved in next door," I said. I guess she hadn't noticed the last time she had been in.

"Oh. We have new neighbours?" she asked, and I could practically see her itching to go peer through the kitchen windows at their house. My mom was something of a mix between Petunia Dursley, June Cleaver, and Emily Gilmore. A very frightening mix.

"Just the two of them," I said, shrugging.

"Why haven't I met them yet?"

"You haven't really been home. I mean, you guys stopped in once since they moved in, and it was only overnight," I said. She stared towards the window, looking thoughtful.

"You should invite them to dinner Thursday," she said. "Two people alone on Thanksgiving isn't very festive."

"Mom, you don't know that they're going to be alone. They may have family coming in or something," I said. As much as I would love for Emmett to come over, it was true that they might already have plans. And it would be kind of cruel to expose him to my mother.

"Oh, c'mon Rosalie," Jasper spoke up from the couch, smiling lazily. "Invite them." I glared at him and resisted the urge to flip him off. Because the parents were back and so was the self-censor.

"If they have people coming in, they can always say no," Mom said. "It's only polite to ask them."

Yeah right. She just didn't wanted to be the last on the block to know all about the new people. But there was no way out. I was going to have to at least ask. If Emmett was really lucky, his mom might decline the invitation.

Maybe I should wait until the last minute to say anything, and they'll already have plans.

---

**EPOV**

I didn't talk to Rosalie the next few days, but she made no attempt to contact me, either. I couldn't figure anything out. Was she just toying with me again? I felt like we had had some sort of cheesy-ass bonding moments on Saturday night but well, history with Rosalie shows that that doesn't always mean much.

I needed time to think. I didn't want to play these fucking games, if that's what they were. It were even affecting my fucking sleep. And as we all know, a sleep-deprived Emmett is not a pleasant Emmett. I had gone past the point of "I cannot process anything" and straight into "I am fucking pissed at the world" territories.

I tossed and turned all night, unable to stop my mind from racing. At times, I almost got offended. I am Emmett Fucking McCarty. I don't let things bother me. What was with this girl that she could fucking burrow into my mind and cause all of this shit?

"_I haven't seen two people affect each other so much so quickly since me and Jasper."_

Yeah. Fuck you, Alice. I don't want to be affected. I want to sleep.

I groaned and rolled over, contemplating asphyxiating myself with my pillow. At least if I passed out I could stop thinking about this shit. I heard somewhere that you cannot actually suffocate yourself unless you like, hang yourself. So it's not like I'd die.

Fuck this shit.

The doorbell rang. That fucking bastard contraption. I'm going to ignore it. Take that, doorbell!

My mom answered it. I could hear her. Way to undermine my authority, Mom. Now that fucking doorbell will never learn.

I'm going crazy. Rosalie Fucking Hale has literally driven me to the point of insanity.

I rolled out of bed and went to my door, sticking my head out to try and hear who was at the door. My mom's voice floated up from the kitchen, but I couldn't hear the other person, and I couldn't hear exactly what my mom was saying. I was going to have to venture down there.

I didn't want to venture down there. If I did, my mom would probably make me be social. And I didn't want to be social.

But I'm too damned nosy for that shit, so I found myself creeping down there and peeking around the kitchen doorway, hoping to find out who it was and then sneak away before they saw me. Because at six-foot-five, I am _completely _capable of being sneaky. Yeah. Right. Sure.

Even if I were sneaky, it wouldn't have helped, because I couldn't help but groan when I saw who was in the kitchen.

Rosalie Fucking Hale. Talking to my mother and drinking coffee like she wasn't the reason for any of my current problems.

My mom looked up when she saw me and motioned for me to come into the kitchen. I shook my head, starting to back out, until she gave me the patented get-your-butt-in-here-before-I-light-your-ass-on-fire look that only moms seem to be able to use.

"Emmett, have you met Rosalie yet?" Mom asked. I nearly laughed. But I'm Emmett Fucking McCarty and I was fucking cranky as shit at the moment.

"Yeah, we've met," I said, going to the fridge and pulling out a bottle of water.

"Well, Rosalie's parents have invited us to dinner tonight," she said, sounding incredibly excited, considering she didn't even know Rosalie or her family. And considering the fact that we _never _make a big deal over Thanksgiving. I couldn't tell you the last time we did anything special for it. "Isn't that nice?"

"Oh yeah. Wonderful," I deadpanned. I expected Rosalie to glare at me, but no. She did something much worse. She bit her fucking lip and cast her eyes down at the table, looking fucking _hurt_.

Jesus fucking Christ. Even in my irritated state, I didn't want to _hurt _her.

"Emmett, be polite," she said warningly.

"I should be going," Rosalie said quietly, scooting her chair away from the table. "I'll tell my parents to expect you around five."

"Sounds great," my mom said cheerfully. I rolled my eyes and she shot me a look so brutal that I nearly expected to feel physical pain. She waited until she heard the front door shut before she started in. "What is wrong with you?" she hissed.

"Nothing. I just don't see why we have to be all buddy-buddy with our neighbours," I said, shrugging.

"Because they're nice people!"

"Mom, you don't even know them," I said. Her nostrils flared. That was never a good sign.

"There is nothing wrong with making friends with the neighbours," she said.

"Except the fact that in a few months we'll be packing up and getting a whole new set," I pointed out.

"Emmett," she said, rubbing her eyes as if to stave off a headache. "We're going to their house this afternoon. And you are going to be pleasant. You are going to smile. You are going to compliment the food, and our hosts. And you are going to be nice to Rosalie, especially, because you were incredibly rude to her just now."

I nearly snorted. If only she knew half of the story. Rosalie and her damned misleading hurt-puppy look.

"Now go upstairs and get ready," she said. I turned and walked out of the kitchen, nearly making it all the way upstairs before she added, "And you are going to look nice!"

Of course I'm going to look nice. Because I'm Emmett Fucking McCarty, and I would be a sexy beast even if I were wearing nothing more than a trash bag.

I got the feeling I probably shouldn't say that to her, though.

---

At five o'clock on the dot, my mom and I were standing on the Hale's doorstep, my mom carrying a fucking pumpkin pie in one of our Tupperware containers like she hadn't bought it from the fucking bakery. She made me wear a tie. I couldn't fucking breathe. Not because the tie was too tight. I just don't like having things around my neck. It bothers me. I want to hunt down the bastard who invented these things and strangle him with one.

Dear God, this was going to be a long evening.

Rosalie answered the door and I nearly whimpered. My nerves were shot and I would not be able to deal with looking at her all night like that. This was definitely going to be a long evening. She was wearing a little black dress and dear god, this thing was neck-and-neck with... well, most of what I'd ever seen her wear. It was almost better than seeing her in my sweatpants. And the truly mind-fucking thing about it was that it was probably the most modest little black dress in the world. It was simple, with a square neckline and a slightly flared skirt that came down almost to her knees.

There was absolutely nothing amazingly sexy about this dress.

But _Rosalie _in this dress was fucking torture.

Because I was wearing slacks, and you can't hide anything for shit in slacks, and I really did _not_ need to be pitching a tent all through dinner. I looked away from her, trying to calm my nerves. Okay. Not looking at her helped. I might survive if I just didn't look at her. Okay.

"Hi, Ms. McCarty," Rosalie greeted warmly and I nearly snorted. Sure. Cause she's always that warm and fuzzy. "Emmett," she added, all traces of warmth gone as she looked at me. I really did snort that time. Atta girl, Rosie, go back to your true form.

"Emmett," my mom said warningly. I rolled my eyes. "Hi, Rosalie. Thanks again for inviting us," she continued, turning away from me again. "We brought a pie."

And I carried a fucking watermelon.

Wow, I really am being bitchy. This is a first. And quoting chick flicks. Rosalie really has driven me crazy.

Dinner was pretty uneventful. Alice, thankfully, monopolized most of the conversation, and oddly – considering she had gone through all of the trouble of inviting us – Rosalie's mom seemed fairly unconcerned about getting to know us. Which was good because I had already somehow earned two pinches to my leg from Mom for somehow being rude. I call it distant, as I was being distracted by Rosalie fucking rubbing my other leg under the table. What kind of game _was _this?

I tried to ignore it, but after having to surreptitiously adjust myself in my pants for the _second _time – because fuck, I may be annoyed but she was still fucking moving higher on my thigh each minute that passed – I was ready to snap. I became vaguely aware that if my mom went to pinch my leg again and happened to look down this time, she would see exactly what was going on and that shit just didn't fly.

"So, Emmett, how are you liking Forks?" Mrs. Hale asked, turning her attention to me for the first time since Rosalie had started that shit. I had to work to force myself to talk without stuttering.

"It's not bad," I said vaguely.

"But not the big city life that you're used to," she added. I nearly laughed.

"I've lived in all sorts of places," I said. "This is no different."

If there is no other way to bring the conversation to a grinding halt, vague answers will do it. After awhile people just can't think of any other questions.

I reached under the table as subtly as I could and grabbed Rosalie's hand as it drifted even higher, glaring at her. Really, I had had fathers chase me down before for messing with their daughters, and Rosalie's father didn't exactly look like a joke. She smiled a little but withdrew her hand before standing up calmly.

"I'll clean up," she volunteered quietly, gathering a few of the dishes around her.

"Emmett will help you," my mom volunteered me, pinching my leg under the trouble. Dammit, my legs had undergone enough abuse during this meal. That shit needed to stop. But I'm supposed to be _pleasant_, so I resisted informing her that like hell I'll be helping, and stood up, gathering more plates and then following Rosalie to the kitchen. She sat her load of dishes on the counter and then hoisted herself up beside them, sitting on the counter, her legs crossed, as she looked at me.

"What the hell is your problem?" she demanded.

"I don't have a problem," I said calmly. "Clearly you're imagining things."

"Bullshit," she spat. "You're walking around here in a pissy mood, glaring at everyone, acting like a smart ass... That's my job, and I guarantee you that I am better at it than you. Now what's going on?"

"I'm so fucking tired of your fucking games," I said, bracing my hands on the edge of the counter on either side of her, my face close to hers.

"My games?"

"This whole, fucking around, 'now I like you, now I don't' bullshit," I said.

"What are you talking about? You're the one who didn't call or come over or anything over the last week," she said. I wanted to bash my head against the counter.

"Neither did you!"

"I was trying to save you from having to come over here today! I figured if I waited, you guys would have plans," she said, glaring at me. "I wouldn't purposefully subject you to my parents."

"We never have plans on Thanksgiving," I said.

"How was I supposed to know that?" she asked.

"You didn't ask! That's the point! You pulled the same on-and-off shit you pulled the first time!"

"The shit _I _pulled? _You're _the one who went out and fucked Lauren Mallory three days later!"

"I believe you've already punished me for that," I said. She narrowed her eyes at me. "All I want to know is, what sort of game are you trying to play, because I want in on the rules, and how long are you planning to play it?"

"I'm not playing any games," she spat.

"So you expect me to believe that you were really just trying to protect me from meeting your parents?"

"_Yes!_" she exclaimed. "God _dammit_, you're stupid."

"This whole fucking situation," I said, stepping back and gesturing into the space around us as though the situation had a physical form that was filling the room, "is stupid."

The next second I was being pulled forward by my tie and suddenly I fucking loved that tie, because Rosalie was looking at me fiercely, the silk wrapped around her hand, and fuck, that look on her face was one of the sexiest fucking things I'd ever seen. Actually, Rosalie was now occupying nine of the spots on the list of the ten sexiest things I had ever encountered.

"Do-over," she hissed.

"What?"

"If you insist that I'm playing some sort of game, I want a do-over," she said.

"Is that like a reset button?"

"Yes," she said, rolling her eyes.

"Well..." I said, at a loss for words. "Okay then."

Her lips crashed against mine as her grip on my tie tightened and I might have fucking growled but I wasn't sure. I forgot where I was. In that moment it was just Rosalie and me, and she was fucking pressed against me, my hips pressed between her thighs and _fuck_, if she had only been sitting a _little _closer to the edge of the counter. I was harder than I had been through dinner and had she been close enough, I have no doubt that I would have had to try very hard to resist burying myself in her right there in the kitchen because dear _God_, she had moved to my neck and was alternating between nipping sharply at the skin there and soothing it with her lips and tongue and my hands were moving up her thighs and under her skirt, exploring the soft, smooth skin and tracing over the edge of her lace panties until—

"Are you two out of your fucking minds?"

I've never moved so fast in my life as when I backed away at the sound of that voice, fully prepared to have to outrun her father and quite possibly jump an eight-foot-tall privacy fence before sicking Nan on him. Not that it would work, knowing the stupid dog,and I got the feeling that whether or not it worked, the sentiment wouldn't go over well with Mr. Hale.

It took me a moment to realize that it had been Jasper. He was standing in the doorway, holding a stack of desert plates and staring at us like he had never seen anything as audacious in his life.

"Fuck, Jasper, you scared me," Rosalie hissed. "I thought you were Dad."

"You're lucky I wasn't!" he exclaimed. "You know how they feel about you and Royce."

"You and Royce?" I asked, looking at Rosalie. She was turning red as she glared at Jasper.

"Jasper, shut up," she hissed.

"They would have a shit fit if they thought you were cheating on him," Jasper continued, slamming the desert plates down on the counter before turning to me. "You need to go home," he said.

"I'm not going anywhere until I find out what the hell's going on here," I said calmly, still looking at Rosalie. "Because see, I was under the impression that you weren't dating Royce."

"Hey Emmett," Alice called out, coming into the kitchen. "Can I borrow you for a second?"

"Alice—" I started and she cut me off, grabbing my hand and pulling me towards the back door.

"Really? I can? Super," she said grimly. I heard Jasper and Rosalie start arguing as the door shut and Alice turned to look at me, her hands on her hips. "Well, that could have gone better," she said cheerfully.

"What's going on here, Alice?" I asked slowly. She screwed her face up in thought.

"Okay. It's like this. Treat it like a soap opera when you hear it," she started and I nearly groaned. Could no one just give me a straight answer? "So once there was a fair maiden named Rosalie Hale, who was beautiful and poised and loved by all, even though she was mean and snippy and never talked to anyone except her brother, Sir Jasper, his beautiful girlfriend, Lady Alice, and her childhood friend named Lady Bella.

"So one day Rosalie's parents decided that she should court the young Prince Royce, because it would be in the best interest for the family in this economy, with the price of meat what it is and all that. But Prince Royce was a bad man, and did bad things to Rosalie. She tried to keep it quiet but one day Sir Jasper's beautiful girlfriend, Lady Alice, discovered the secret, and Sir Jasper chased Prince Royce off. Rosalie vowed never to see Prince Royce again, but he kept popping up and bugging her.

"Until one day, when a handsome dark knight from a land far away moved in next door, and in all of his shining armor saved her once more from the evil Prince Royce. But of course Rosalie's parents knew nothing about this because they were away visiting neighbouring lands when it all went down. So they still think that they're together." Alice looked at me expectantly once she had finished her story.

"That doesn't sound like a soap opera. It sounds like a fairy tale," I said. She rolled her eyes.

"What is a fairy tale but a medieval soap opera?" she asked. "Were you even listening to the story?"

"What did he do to her?" I asked. Alice hadn't been super-specific about that. All she had said was that Royce did 'bad things' to Rosalie.

"That's Rosalie's story to tell," Alice said, looking at me apologetically. "I just want you to understand the general story, and that she's not lying to you, but you cannot be in there yelling about how they broke up. It's Rosalie's right to explain it when and how she wants to."

"Okay, fine," I said. "Just one last thing."

"What?"

"Why does Royce get to be the prince? Maybe I want to be the prince," I teased.

"Oh come on. Everyone knows that the prince is just a figurehead. The knight is the real hero. And the hero always gets the girl in the end," Alice explained before her expression darkened and she reached up to smack me over the back of the head.

"Ow! What was that for?"

"For being an idiot! Have a little faith in the fair maiden!" she said before skipping off.

---

I'm pacing. Fucking pacing. As a general rule, I don't ask girls things. I'm nosy, and not knowing things drive me crazy, but still, I don't usually push people for answers that they don't want to give. Not on big things, anyway.

But this, I have to figure out.

I can guess. I can make what I'd be willing to bet are some pretty damned good guesses, at that. Rosalie's reaction when I put Nan out Saturday, for example, and Alice's explanation that Royce did 'very bad things' to Rosalie. Just the two of those combined could provide some pretty solid conclusions.

Details. It was the details I wanted to know. Not in a sick way – I don't get off on how women are abused – but so that I knew how to kill Royce; if I should do it quickly, just for the sake of being gone, or if I should make him suffer.

I tried to tell myself that I would do this in any circumstances, and not just because it was Rosalie. I tried to tell myself over and over that Rosalie was just another conquest, something to occupy my time while I was here, to be quickly forgotten when I inevitably left.

Even I knew that wasn't true. And that fact made me want to make solid contact with the wall with my head. What about her allowed her to burrow under my skin like this?

I looked over at my window to see the light on in her room. Her window was open. In fucking November. In the Olympic Peninsula. What the fuck?

Convenient, though.

I opened my window and leaned out.

"Rosalie," I half-whispered. No need to alert her parents to the fact that I was yelling into their daughter's bedroom window. After a few seconds she appeared, looking surprised.

"What?"

"Come over here," I said. She raised an eyebrow as though she couldn't imagine _why _I would want her to come over. "We need to talk."

---

**AN**: I've heard that some people do not dress up for Thanksgiving. That's not how we do it in my house, though, and that's why the charas are looking all snazzy. I will, in fact, have to do it by the time you guys are reading this. I have a snazzy wine-coloured skirt and a black sweater set. Now, I know that most of you don't actually know me, but I don't do sweater sets. D:

So, I looked at my stats today and saw that this story has been added to the "Diamonds on Black Velvet" C2. It's a pretty awesome community for J/A, E/R, etc. pairings, and it's full of awesome stories, so I'm really happy to be a part of it. Thank you to whoever added me! :D

Also, there is not enough nicotine in the free world to make dealing with my family bearable.

And now... /bribes reviewers with a Thanksgiving dinner and footsy under the table.


	9. Round Nine

**Not Without A Fight  
**Annaleise Marie

**Round Nine**

**AN**: So much thanks for the feedback on the last chapter! I feel so loved! :3

Now, I'm sure you were all waiting with baited breath for Emmett and Rosalie's talk, so let's light this candle, shall we?

I own a tummy ache from overeating on Thanksgiving, but I don't own Twilight. That's the property of Stephenie Meyer. And she can keep most of it. I just want Emmett and Rosalie.

---

**EPOV**

Jesus Christ, I had never seen a girl look so uncomfortable in my life as Rosalie did as she stood in my bedroom. She remained close to the door, as though staying ready to escape. God, why did people always get like this the second someone mentioned the phrase, "we need to talk"? It blew my mind a little.

Now that she was here, I didn't even know how to begin talking about this subject. Thankfully, Rosalie started it for me after a few minutes of awkward silence.

"Alice told me she talked to you about what happened," she said quietly.

"In no great detail, and in great extended metaphors," I said, smiling. I was trying to put her at ease by acting like I was at ease, but I wasn't sure it was working. She wouldn't make eye contact with me. I sighed. "What happened?" I asked, deciding to just cut to the chase – like ripping off a band-aid. I wasn't sure it would help, but hell, I didn't know what else to do.

"What is it exactly that you want to know?" she asked, and I could swear I saw a trace of annoyance flicker across her features. Here we go.

"Anything you want to tell me," I said. Truly, I wanted to know all of it, but I wasn't going to press the issue, either, if she was already annoyed.

---

**RPOV**

Anything I want to tell him? I don't want to tell him anything. I don't want him to know. I don't want anyone to know. Alice had found out, and by association Jasper knew, but I had no desire for Emmett to start seeing me as damaged goods.

Because here's the thing about damaged goods – no one wants them. That's why they're discounted at supermarkets. I didn't want that with Emmett. I didn't want him to see what had happened every time he looked at me.

"You could start at the beginning," he suggested.

"You already know the beginning. The roses," I said. Sure, I could retell the story, and kill some time, and hope that information would satisfy him for the time being, but I got the feeling that wouldn't work.

"Then fill in the blanks in Alice's story?"

"Such as?"

"What did Royce do to you?" he asked. There it was. The question I had been dreading. I couldn't find the words. In my mind, I knew them. But they were such raw words, so foreign to someone like me, who had never imagined them ever being a reality, that they sounded too dry, too point-blank, and I couldn't force my mouth to actually form them.

"I have a pretty good idea," he said after a moment, when I still hadn't managed to say anything. "I could give you my theories, and you could confirm them, or deny them, if you're having trouble saying it."

For a guy so lacking in common sense, he was pretty damned perceptive. I nodded, steeling myself for the questions.

"Did he hurt you?" His first question was much simpler than I had expected. I nodded hesitantly.

"Did he hit you?" The next question, harder. It was like tearing stitches out before they were ready to be removed. I nodded, almost afraid to look at him. When I did, he was resting his head on his laced hands, staring at the floor, his eyes narrowed. I knew what question was coming next, and I was pretty sure I knew what his reaction would be.

"Did he rape you?"

There it was. I felt sick to my stomach. I didn't want to tell him this one. I didn't want to see what was sure to be in his eyes when he finally looked at me after hearing it. The disgust, the regret at choosing me, the anger for not telling him what a horrible decision it had been from the beginning... I didn't want to see that.

"Did he?"

I was going to vomit. It was going to happen. There was just no way that my stomach was not going to fight its way out of my throat. I was shaking. I couldn't breathe. Maybe I would pass out. _Something _bad was bound to happen.

"Rosalie."

"Yes," I choked out. I was staring at the floor but I heard him move, heard him coming towards me. I expected him to pass me, to leave the room, or maybe make me leave. I expected him to not even want to look at me. I hoped he would just tell me to get out without me having to see the disgust.

No such luck.

"Look at me," he said quietly. He didn't sound angry, or disgusted, but I didn't want to get my hopes up until I looked at him. At the same time, I still didn't want to look at him. "Please." I could feel tears building in my eyes, and on one level it horrified me at how much the though of him hating me for what had happened scared me. I hadn't even known him that long and yet the thought of losing him in any way was upsetting me more than anything, more even than what Royce had done.

His hand came up slowly, gently, to my chin, not forcing, but guiding my face up to look at him. Finally seeing his face, I felt relief wash over me, relief so strong that I once more felt like I might vomit as my stomach dropped back into its proper place. Because he wasn't looking at me with disgust, or anger, or any of the emotions that I had feared seeing.

He looked sad. Genuinely, truly, heartbreakingly sad. That was what made the tears finally fall. I didn't want him to have to share in what had happened. I didn't want him feeling sorrow for what had happened to me. He shouldn't have to shoulder that.

And then I was being pulled into his chest, his arms wrapping around me and his face buried in my hair. I brought my own arms up and grasped the back of his shirt, feeling the need to anchor myself somehow.

"I'm so sorry," he muttered, and that just made me cry harder. Crying is messy. This isn't a teen movie where everything is sweet in its sadness, and I wanted to apologize for soaking the front of his shirt, but all of my words stuck in my throat as I had to gasp for air. I was sure my makeup was smudging, running into the cotton. I should apologize for that.

He didn't seem to mind as he tightened his embrace, and I finally just allowed myself to cry. I hadn't allowed myself to cry, over any of it, until this point. I didn't want to worry Alice and Jasper with just how hurt I was, so I allowed my usual anger to mask it, afraid that I would worry them more, but more afraid that if I allowed myself to grieve, everyone would be able to see it, like I was wearing a huge sign detailing the event.

But now Emmett was holding me, and apologizing like it was his fault that it had happened and not mine, and I couldn't do I anymore.

I don't know how long he held me there. I was exhausted, cried out when he finally let me go. He kissed my forehead gently before finally backing away. I felt cold, empty the second he pulled away. His next words came as a relief.

"Do you want to stay?" he asked. I nodded, relieved. I felt like it should go against every one of my instincts to agree to stay in a guy's room, after rehashing everything that happened, but I felt strangely safe with Emmett, and I didn't really want to go back home to think about all of it alone. He went to his closet, pulling out a pair of sweatpants and a tee shirt, handing them to me and nodding to the bathroom. I took them, thankful that I didn't have to sleep in my dress because well, I felt like asking him for anything else tonight would be too much.

Once in the bathroom I fished my cell out of my bra – do not look at me like that, this dress doesn't exactly have pockets – and dialed Jasper's number.

"Hello?" Alice's sleepy voice answered.

"Alice? What are you doing there?" I asked. She sighed.

"Sleeping. Or at least, I was until a second ago," she said, sounding grumpy.

"Listen, I need you to do me a favour. Can you go downstairs and leave a note that I'm staying at Bella's tonight?" I asked, pulling the phone away from my ear for a second to pull the tee shirt over my head. Really, I could wear it alone and it would pass as a nightgown, but I was glad he gave me pants, too. No matter how safe I felt, I didn't need to be in his bed half-naked.

"What? Why?" Alice asked and I wondered how deeply asleep she was if those simple instructions were confusing her.

"So that Mom doesn't freak out again."

"What?" she asked again. "Your parents left like an hour ago. They said they had a plane to catch."

I sighed. Of course. I should have figured that they wouldn't be sticking around very long. I had been planning on talking to them about how I had ended my relationship with Royce tomorrow, but I guess it would have to wait.

"Okay. Sorry to wake you. Goodnight, Alice."

"Night," she said, sounding relieved that she was going to be able to go back to sleep. The call ended and I took a deep breath, preparing myself to go back into Emmett's room.

---

**EPOV**

I wasn't really sure how to react to what Rosalie had told me. I had suspected it, but somehow having it confirmed was like a swift kick to the stomach. How had someone done that to her?

And then she _cried_. And it wasn't like the first time, in Port Angeles. This was serious. In that moment, I had felt my heart break. I looked down at my shirt and saw her smudged makeup. It infuriated me. Not because of Rosalie causing the stain, but because of Royce causing this whole big mess. Sure, there had been times when Rosalie made me want to bash my head against any available hard surface, but I couldn't imagine anyone ever wanting to hurt her.

I stared at the ceiling as I laid back in my bed, staring at the ceiling. I was torn between two different things. One side of me wanted to stay here and hold Rosalie, and comfort her, and make sure she got through the night okay.

The other side was insisting that I leave right now, hunt Royce down, and make him feel every last bit of pain that he had caused Rosalie.

But that could wait. Right now, Rosalie needed me more. I knew this. It didn't make the urge to hunt Royce down go away, but it would keep it under control for now.

She finally emerged from the bathroom after ten minutes, completely swimming in my clothes, and it had a whole different effect than the first time. She looked weak, small... defeated. And in that moment, I hated Royce even more than I had thought possible. He had taken this strong, beautiful girl and reduced her to this.

I tried to keep my face calm. I didn't want her to think I was mad at her, or that I was upset with _her_ about what she had told me.

She crawled into bed beside me, resting her head on my chest, and I was almost surprised that she was initiating contact, given the circumstances. She was shaking, and I didn't know if it was nerves – I could guess that they were probably shot all to hell at the moment – or if she was cold, but I pulled up the sheets and comforter before wrapping my arms around her again.

I didn't know what to think anymore. I had never had to deal with anything like this before this point. How was I supposed to act? What was I supposed to say?

"Hey Emmett?" Rosalie said, snuggling deeper into my chest.

"Hmm?"

"Thanks," she said. I had to laugh. I couldn't believe she was thanking me for anything.

"What for?" I asked. She shrugged.

"Everything."

I fucking love her. All this shit, everything that had happened – and I couldn't help loving her, anyway.

I'm Emmett Fucking McCarty, and I'm scared shitless.

"Anytime."

---

"Jasper," I said quietly. I had snagged Rosalie's phone the next morning while she was still asleep. Jasper answered on the second ring, sounding bored.

"Emmett?" Slightly more interested now that he realized it was me instead of Rosalie. "What's going on? Is Rosalie okay?"

"She's fine, considering," I said, peering through the crack in the bathroom door. Because yes, I was hiding in my own bathroom.

"Oh. Then what do you want?" he asked, sounding bored again.

"I need to know how to find Royce."

"He's not hard to find. But you should consider this before you go after him: We live in Forks. Everyone hears about every little scandal. If you go after him, everyone will know what's going on by the next day. Rosalie wants this kept quiet. It might be better for you to just concentrate on helping her heal and move on," he said.

"I want to kill him." It was an exaggeration. I wouldn't kill him. I'd beat him within an inch of my life, but scum like him wasn't worth a life sentence.

"Trust me man, I know the feeling. But you have to consider Rosalie. She may be hurting now, but imagine when everyone in town knows, because of you, when she didn't want anyone to know. You need to help her deal with this on her terms. She obviously trusts you. Do you really want to violate that trust by letting everyone find out?" he asked. "She'll tell people when and if she's ready."

"What are you, a therapist?"

"Hey, my relationship works, doesn't it?" he asked. "And trust me, Alice has her own issues that she's had to cope with."

This was true. Well, I didn't know anything about any issues, but his relationship definitely worked.

"Anyway, what's Rosalie doing?" he asked.

"Sleeping," I said.

"She probably shouldn't wake up alone, if she went to bed with you. It might freak her out," he said. "Later, man."

He hung up and I sighed, walking back into the bedroom and placing Rosalie's phone back on the bedside table before sneaking my way back into bed. Rosalie inched back towards me and at first I was amazed that she was wanting to be so close to me, even in her sleep, but then I realized that it was fucking freezing in my room. I had left the window open and the night had brought snow.

A solid four inches, judging by what had come through the screen and piled on the windowsill. Jesus Christ. I sat back up and shut the window before laying back down and pulling the covers over us again. I felt restless; I needed to do something. But at the same time I was content to just lay here with Rosalie in my arms as long as she'd allow it.

It was only seven in the morning. I figured I had a few hours before this ended, and I didn't know how she would feel about last night when she woke up. So I may as well enjoy it while it lasted.

---

I woke up again around ten to the sound of the shower running, and one thought penetrated my foggy mind. _Rosalie was in my shower_.

_Rosalie was in my shower naked._

_Rosalie was in my shower naked and wet_.

Okay. Definitely not the thoughts to be having after last night. But that didn't change the fact that _Rosalie_ was _naked_ in my shower. Dear God, was this some sort of fucking test? Hadn't I been tested enough? There was only so much a guy could take, after all.

I dragged myself out of bed and made my way downstairs, grabbing my cigarettes from the top of my dresser on the way. A few minutes of standing out in the cold and some nicotine, then some coffee, should help.

And Jesus Christ, was it cold.

I was only halfway through my cigarette when I heard the storm door open and then arms wrapped around me from behind. I turned around to see Rosalie, her hair up in one of the bandanas that I used for kickboxing when my hair was longer, and once more swimming in my clothes, this time an oversized hoodie with the logo of one of the many high schools I had attended.

"Fleeing Anatevka, Chava?" I asked, grinning. "And raiding my closet before you go?"

"It's fucking cold, and my hair is wet," she defended. "I don't want to get sick. And you don't want me to get sick. I'm kind of a bitch when I'm miserable."

"When you're miserable?" I asked, earning myself a quick jab to my chest. "Okay, okay, sorry, you're not a bitch. In fact, I've never heard anything more ridiculous in my life."

"Have I told you lately that you're full of shit?" she asked.

"I think it's actually been a few weeks. It's probably overdue," I said, shrugging. She smiled.

"Thanks," she said quietly.

"What for now?" I asked. She shrugged.

"For not being all weird now that you know... you know, everything," she said.

"Rosalie Hale? Thanking me? Are you sure you're not already sick?" I asked. She rolled her eyes and then jumped as a low whine broke through the air.

"What the hell?" I muttered as I spotted a huge pile of snow, Nanuq's nose poking out of it. I rolled my eyes. Dumb ass dog. She had a dog house and everything, and she just laid outside all night and let it snow on her. I stepped off of the deck, digging around in the pile of snow to find her collar and pull her out. "You useless—"

I was cut off as something collided with my side, knocking me off balance and sending me toppling into the snow, the weight settling on my back. Rosalie laughed.

"Fuck," I groaned. I wasn't hurt, but the wind had been knocked right out of me and being that I had gone outside to embrace the cold to help me calm down, I wasn't wearing anything except my pajamas and now here I was, lying face down in the snow. Fucking bitch.

But then she was laughing and I must be far gone because that sound made it okay. I would lay in the snow all day if it kept her happy.

Jesus Christ, I'm turning into a fucking girl. Just take my fucking man card now.

I rolled over, causing her to fall into the snow beside me, still laughing.

"Now, that wasn't very nice," I said. She just shrugged.

"But it was fun," she said.

"You think so?"

"Uh, yeah." She seemed shocked that I would even ask. I shook my head and stood up, extending my hand to help her up as well, but as she grasped it an evil smile spread across her face and she jerked me forward hard, causing me to fall back down. I stared at her in shock for a minute before smiling and shaking my head, sending the snow that was now dusting my hair falling down onto her. She laughed.

Playful Rosalie. Yet another side to her. Everytime I encountered a new side to her, I think I fell more in love with her. I pushed that thought from my mind as I rested my head on her shoulder, half-lying on her but still being careful not to crush her under my weight.. It still scared the shit out of me that I was feeling this way.

"Emmett, I'm getting wet," she whined. I smirked.

"I know I'm good, but I'm not even doing anything," I teased. She scoffed.

"I mean, you're warm, and I'm lying under you in the snow," she said.

"I'm not that warm," I assured her.

"Compared to the snow?" she pointed out, running her fingers through my hair. Fuck the snow and the cold. This was contentment if I've ever encountered it.

"Fair enough," I conceded. Not that it changed anything. I had no intention of ending this. I wondered vaguely when my interest in her went from purely sexual to companionship. Not that the sexual charge had disappeared, not in the least. But it didn't seem like the single most important thing anymore. Again, I pushed that thought from my mind.

"Are you going to move, then?" she asked after a moment.

"Probably not," I said, laughing and turning my head to look at her as she rolled her eyes. That same old gesture, but now without the malice. She looked more amused than anything.

"It really is cold," she said quietly. "And I really am getting soaked from lying in the snow."

"Maybe you shouldn't have pushed me into it, hmm?"

"Hindsight," she muttered. I hummed in agreement before sitting up as I felt her phone vibrate in her pocket. She stood up and retrieved it, staring at the caller ID before answering. "Jasper?" She was quiet for a moment before staring at me, looking surprised. "Uh... yeah. Hold on." She held the phone out to me. "It's for you."

I took it, wondering what was going on. Maybe he had looked out his window and saw us wrestling and was not at all happy about it. That seemed like a very Jasper-ish reaction.

"Hello?" I asked hesitantly.

"Enjoy wrestling?" he asked. Yup, I called that shit, didn't I? Because I'm Emmett Fucking McCarty, intuitive mother fucker and master of deduction.

"I'm not sure how to answer that," I said carefully. He let out a short laugh.

"Listen, send Rosalie inside for a minute or something," he said. I was puzzled, but decided to just listen to him. What could it hurt?

"Hey," I said to her. "Why don't you go inside and dry off. I'll be in in a second." She looked confused but shrugged and started trekking back to the house. Jasper started talking again the second the door shut behind her and I wondered if he wasn't watching us. Unnerving.

"I was thinking about you wanting to go after Royce," he said. "And I think I may have a way to do it without people knowing that you have a grudge against him in particular."

"Really?" I asked, suddenly very interested in what he was saying. I would take _any _chance to punish him.

"He wrestles for Insight School--"

"Insight School?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.

"It's this piddly-ass school on the other side of Forks, closer to La Push, now are you going to let me talk or interrupt me?" he expained irritably.

"Sorry," I said.

"Okay. So, as small as the school is, Forks High is only single-A, so we still go up against them in meets. I _think_ you're probably in the same weight class as him, so you'd get your chance to take him down," he said. "Tryouts are Monday, but they're kind of a joke because there's not really enough interest in the team for them to be picky. And there's definitely no one in your weight class."

I had to think about that. As much as I wanted to go after Royce - and I really, _really_did - wrestling wasn't really my thing. I was more of a kickboxer, and rolling around on the floor with other guys in tights didn't really sound appealing to me.

"And you know, if wrestling isn't your thing," Jasper continued as if reading my mind, "you could always get kicked off the team after that match for beating Royce a _little _too enthusiastically."

I grinned. I was really starting to like Jasper's way of thinking.

"And this is legal?"

"As long as you don't break any bones," he said. "Although I think that'll be quite the challenge, after you get started. Anyway, think about it, and if you decide to do it stick around after school Monday. Now I'll let you go continue to maul my sister."

"I wasn't _mauling_ her."

"Right. Cause guys like you are big on cuddling."

"Fuck you, Jasper."

"Well, that explains why you weren't mauling her," he laughed. "Later, man."

---

**AN**: For anyone who may be wondering, I'm estimating ten more chapters in this story, so things should be getting to the good parts soon. So don't fret.

We got our first snow of the season in my region last night. Except I have no one to play in the snow with. Although I'm thinking about forcing one of my friends to. It'll be a nice break from Black Friday, which I am driving two hours on slick highways to brave because I've put my Christmas shopping off for way too long. Wish me luck. -.-;;

So now... I'll let you guys tell me what you think? Sound good? :D

/bribes reviewers with the delicious Chinese food that is going to make Black Friday worth it for me.

(For those of you outside of the US, like **ApterousAngel**, I don't know if you guys have Black Friday because you don't have Thanksgiving, but for the record, it's the day after Thanksgiving when everyone goes fucking batshit crazy trying to get their Christmas shopping done. It's a pure marketing strategy but hell, it's convenient when all of the stores have their sales at the same time. :D)


	10. Round Ten

**Not Without A Fight  
**Annaleise Marie

**Round Ten**

**AN**: Thank you guys _so_ much for all of your wonderful feedback on the last chapter! Twenty-one reviews? It blew my mind and warmed my heart on a level you guys just wouldn't understand. Haha. I cuddled with the reviews at night. Not really, because they're virtual BUT the idea was there.

So this chapter took longer than planned because... the plan didn't work out. I wanted to write one thing, and then it just sucked and writing it was like being punished for something. So... this is something completely different from the plan, and... I hope you guys enjoy it! Sorry for the wait!

For those of you who have not been online in the last two days and therefore didn't see the notice yesterday, please note that in order to make this chapter writable, I had to go back and change a fair bit of the end of the last chapter. Basically most of the last section. _Please go back and reread that part, if you haven't, or this part may not make sense to you._

I feel like I should tell you guys how very very tired I am at this exact moment, and ask you to please cut me a little slack on this chapter for instances such as, for example, last chapter's, "I stared at the ceiling as I laid back in my bed, staring at the ceiling." Dear lord. /facepalm

Ahem. I own a new laptop adapter because mine finally crapped out, and an astounding sense of horror that I actually spent that much money on a cord that had _nothing _attached to it. I do not, however, own Twilight. That belongs to Stephenie Meyer.

---

**EPOV**

The weekend went by too fast for my liking. I discovered both that I don't actually know much about Rosalie, and about thirty new things that I could know about her.

She loved Charlie Chaplin and hated Adam Sandler. She could bake, but couldn't cook. She loved fashion but hated fashion magazines. The only celebrity crush she had ever had was Isaac Hanson, but she hasn't had any patience with celebrities since the nineties. She took graphic design because she was good at it so it was an easy class but her real love was mechanics – she was discouraged from taking auto shop, however, because she wouldn't be taken seriously as a girl. Her parents had been traveling almost non-stop as representatives of the umbrella company that presided over Forks Bank since they decided that Rosalie was old enough to look after Jasper, but in truth, Jasper had always been the one to look after her and keep the household running. She didn't separate her lights from her darks when she did laundry. She loved infomercials but never ordered anything. She had volunteered at an animal shelter when she was younger but quit because the cats scared her ("It's the way they look at you – like they're bored with your existence but at the same time would love nothing more than to smother you when you're sleeping."). She preferred violets to any other kind of flower. The list went on and on.

Absolutely nothing that I learned about her held any great importance, but all of it was immediately filed away as part of her being – which was becoming more important in itself by the day.

Saturday and Sunday, she would wait until my mom left for work at night – I hadn't bothered to ask, but I think she was now on a permanent midnight schedule – and then come over. She never brought pajamas, but always stayed the night. I think she liked wearing my clothes to bed.

All too soon it was Monday again, and the end of Thanksgiving break – back to school, and back to not seeing her throughout the day.

Alice wasn't in first period. I nudged Jasper awake and asked him where she was. He shrugged.

"I think she had an appointment with Dr. Cullen," he said, closing his eyes and leaning back in his chair again.

"Dr. Cullen? Edward's dad?" I asked. Jasper nodded.

"Alice has been seeing him once every other week since she moved here," he said.

"Is she sick?"

"In a manner of speaking," he said. "Dr. Cullen is a psychiatrist."

"Why does she see a psychiatrist?" I asked. Alice, despite all of her quirks, almost seemed like the sanest person in this town. Jasper sighed, sitting up again, seeming resigned to the fact that he was going to be kept awake.

"She has abandonment issues," he said slowly, as though choosing his words carefully. "Her mom left her last year, and her dad left her pretty much before she was born. For some reason he crops back up every three years or so; calls her or visits. I think it just makes things worse."

"So Alice lives alone?"

"Pretty much," he said. "Her mom drops in about once a month, I guess to make sure that she's still alive, and sends money for groceries and the bills. But Alice hates living alone, so she's never there either. She's always either at our place, or I'm at hers. I think it's a comfort thing, too. As much as she trusts me, I think she's worried that one day I'll leave, as well. As long as I'm physically with her, she knows that at least for the moment, I'm not going anywhere."

I think that was the most Jasper had ever said in one sitting, to me at least, and definitely the most personal.

"Sorry," he said, as though realizing this. "It's just kind of one of those weight-of-the-world things, and sometimes you just have to unload some of that weight, you know?" I nodded. "Don't tell Alice that you know, though. It's her business, and not really mine to tell."

I wasn't really sure what to think about the story. Despite Alice's warning the first day about touching her, ninety percent of the time she seemed like a very caring, generally happy person. I never would have guessed that she was dealing with all of that.

Jasper leaned back in his chair again, replacing his hat over his face and remaining like that for the rest of the class.

---

**RPOV**

I was distracted in first period office assisting. The weekend had gone by too fast and my brain was still trying to take in everything that had happened since Friday. Emmett had surprised me, first by his reaction to the news, and then my his actions through the weekend. It was like it didn't matter to him, at least not as far as how he saw me. I had sincerely expected him to bolt, and why wouldn't he? But he didn't. It confused me.

"Rose?" I was pulled from my thoughts as Bella waved her hand in front of my face.

"Huh?"

"I asked if you were going to the wrestling tryouts," she said.

"Why would I go to them?" I asked. She shrugged.

"Well, Jasper's trying out, and so's Edward, so I figured you could keep me company if you were going to cheer on Jasper. You know how awkward I am when it comes to school events," she said. Well, I couldn't deny that. I hadn't ever seen anyone so, well, for lack of a better term, socially retarded than Bella at a school function. She wasn't like that when she was just around her friends, but she was kind of clumsy and didn't really fit in with any of the standard cliques, so forced social situations made her uncomfortable.

"That, and Jasper says that Emmett's trying out," Alice's voice chimed in and Bella and I both jumped, looking around to see Alice standing in front of the desk.

"Shit, Alice, make a noise," I said. "Don't just sneak up on people like that!"

"Sorry," she said, not really seeming apologetic at all, but rather amused. "Anyway, I need you guys to check me in for the day," she continued, holding out a doctor's slip. Bella took it and pulled out the pad of hall passes, filling one out for her. "So, will you be going out to support your man? You know what they say, if you can't be an athlete, be an athletic supporter!"

"Oh jeez, Alice, really?" Bella asked, groaning at the joke.

"And anyway, he's not my man," I added shortly. I wasn't really sure what Emmett and I were.

"Suuuure he's not," Alice drawled, rolling her eyes. Bella snorted a laugh before turning it into a cough as I glared at her.

"What would you know about it?" I asked, turning back to Alice. She smiled.

"I know things," she said confidently. The bell rang to signal second period as Bella handed Alice her excuse and hall pass.

"So, wrestling tryouts, yes, no?" Bella asked as we pushed our way into the crowded hallway outside the office.

"It's not like the guys really need our support," I pointed out. "Those tryouts are just a formality."

"Yeah, but you know teenage boys," she laughed. "They always love a chance to show off how big and strong they are. And who are we to deny them that?"

"Okay," I said. "I'll meet you by the gym after school," I finally agreed as we reached the part of the hall where our paths separated.

"Sounds good," she said, nodding. "See you then!"

She was off with a wave before I could respond. Second period was Biology with Edward, and she was always in a hurry to get there. I rolled my eyes, trying to ignore the twinge of regret I felt that I didn't have any classes with Emmett.

Christ, when had I become so truly attached to him? I guess it was only natural, but still, on some level it bothered me.

---

**EPOV**

Here's the problem with wrestling: I have no idea how to do it. I've always been much more into the combative styles of fighting, rather than the rolling-on-the-floor-with-other-guys-in-spandex type of deal.

So I guess it's a good thing that tryouts were kind of a joke. I could pick up the finer points in practice.

But for now, I was basically operating under the assumption that the main idea was to take the other guy to the mat, and keep him there. Shouldn't be a problem. I was easily the biggest guy there. And wasn't wrestling done by weight classes? Maybe if I was lucky I wouldn't even really have to wrestle before I had trained up a bit.

Not that it would matter in the long run. I only intended to be on the team long enough to go up against Royce, and when I did, I had no intention of wrestling. It was going to be a good, old-fashion, southern-style beatdown.

Because I'm Emmett Fucking McCarty, and I'm one ferocious fucker.

Yes. Ferocious. Like a tiger, or a dragon, or some shit. I resisted the urge to roar because hell, that shit would amuse me. Sometimes I have to remind myself that without being able to hear my internal monologues, most people would not find the verbal parts amusing. Frightening, maybe. Not so much amusing.

We weighed in, and as I suspected, I was the only one in my weight class. Not that that rescued me from anything. It just meant that I would be going up against Edward, who was in the next class down.

I watched the other guys, trying to figure out if there was some sort of rhyme or reason to it. I'm sure there was, being that it was an organized sport, but I couldn't see it if there was. As far as I could tell, the rules were simple: Take the other guy to the ground, keep him there, don't get pinned, don't break bones.

Okay. Got it.

When it was finally mine and Edward's turn, I took him down fairly easily. Not as easily as I would have guessed, he was an illusive bastard, almost as if he could anticipate my movements. But still, once I actually took him down it was easy to keep him there.

Edward was quite a bit bigger than Rosalie, and it struck me that if Jasper was right, and Royce was in my weight class, that Rosalie never stood a chance against him. I had been ignoring that fact, somehow, despite the fact that I was aware, on some level, that I could physically overpower her if I were that kind of guy. Rosalie's attitude made it pretty easy to ignore.

Now it slapped me in the face, and the anger flared up again like never before as the coach blew his whistle to signal the end of the match and I let Edward up, shaking his hand all good sportsman-like. I spotted Rosalie in the bleachers across the gym with Bella and Alice and wondered how I hadn't noticed her before.

She and Bella both looked mildly shocked. Alice just grinned.

Jasper high-fived me when I rejoined the line. Jasper Hale fucking high-fived me. What was this world coming to?

---

"So... you did really well today," Rosalie said when tryouts were finally over and we were walking to the parking lot.

"You sound surprised," I said, glancing at her. "Hell, you look surprised."

"I don't know," she said. "You always just kind of seemed like the gentle giant type. So yeah, I guess you could call me surprised."

"Mildly frightened?" I asked. That was usually the reaction I got when I actually did show my strength. Rosalie wasn't the first person to call me "the gentle giant type". Not by a long shot.

"Oh yeah, you're scary," she scoffed. I laughed. "And you will be even more scary when they issue you that spandex leotard thing. Cause then, you know, you could make someone suffocate to death from laughing too hard."

"Your brother wrestles and you don't know what it's called?" I asked, deciding to ignore the slight. She shrugged.

"I don't think it has a name," she said. "Other than the 'goddamned hideous leaves-nothing-to-the-imagination bastard uniform'."

"Very nice," I said, stopping when we reached her car. I wasn't really sure why we were still driving separately. Waste of gas. Poor ozone layer. Obviously we're conspiring against it.

I leaned down to kiss her – it was getting much easier now to work up the nerve to do it, although each time I decided to I still imagined the snub to end all snubs for a split second – before she got in her car.

"See you tonight," she said, smiling.

"Mom doesn't work tonight," I told her regretfully. She shrugged.

"Then you come over to my place."

"Sneak out? Me?" I asked, feigning insult. "Why, I am shocked that you would suggest such a thing."

"So I'll see you around nine?" she asked, ignoring me. I nodded. Of course she'd see me around nine. I'd probably jump through hoops to see her any time she wanted.

---

**AN**: Forgive me for the somewhat vague match between Edward and Emmett. I actually have about as much interest and knowledge about wrestling as Emmett so I'm bullshitting. Why pick wrestling instead of something else? Why, because it's highly convenient, youngens. So we're all just going to pretend I know what I'm talking about from here on out, aren't we? Yes, yes we are.

So again, sorry about the week-long wait for this chapter. Especially to those of you that I told it would be out by like, last Saturday. It gave me unexpected trouble. I hope it's not too bad.

I also hope that the explanation about Alice satisfied some of your questions. I actually didn't expect people to be so interested in it this soon. Haha.

Next chapter will deal more with progressing Emmett and Rosalie's relationship, instead of his friendships and school shit and yadda yadda yadda. See you then!

/bribes reviewers with cupcakes, because like Rosalie, I can bake but I can't cook to save my life.


	11. Round Eleven

**Not Without A Fight  
**Annaleise Marie

**Round Eleven**

**AN**: I was very happy with how many people said that they loved the last chapter. I guess after all of this time it's good to see them finally getting their shit together. Haha. And it will _probably_ stay that way for a good while. I have other stuff I have to deal with in the next... nine chapters. Is that all I get? I'm going to have to cram a lot into this last half of the story soooo... longer chapters ahoy! And I know, I know, it's a self-imposed chapter limit. It could be longer. Just, twenty chapters seems like a nice round amount. :D

There is no RPOV in this chapter, which surprised this shit out of even me, given the content, but there you have it. I didn't realize it until I went through it after writing it and I'm definitely rewriting so... be happy with the EPOV. XD

So now, enough rambling. I own an intense dislike for my employers, who could not get me a paycheck on time if their lives depended on it, but I do not own Twilight. That would be Stephenie Meyer.

---

**EPOV**

"X-Men or Spiderman?" Rosalie asked. We were laying on her bed, side by side, playing the either/or game. Lame? Maybe.

"Spiderman," I said immediately. It was my practice to answer with the first one that came to mind. If I overthink things, they tend to go badly. "Pasta or pizza?"

"Pizza. Chocolate or vanilla?"

"On pizza? Gross," I said and she nudged my leg with her foot. "Okay, chocolate. Water or fire?"

"Fire. Earth or space?"

"Space. Sure or unsure?"

"Surely unsure," she said without missing a beat. Yup. Pretty sure I love her.

Pretty sure I'm not going to tell _her _that, but yeah, pretty sure I do.

"Emmett?" she asked.

"Hmm?"

"Kiss or hug?" she asked. And who the hell would I be to turn down that opportunity? I rolled to my side, pulling her closer to me and kissing her softly.

"Kiss," I said. "Rain or—"

I was cut off as her lips met mine again, but I didn't care. The either/or game had _nothing_ on kissing Rosalie.

It started out almost chaste, short, closed-mouth kisses, but before I even had time to process it had escalated to searing, hungry, wonderfully punishing kisses, complete with roaming hands to complete the makeout cliché. She raised up, slinging one leg over my waist to straddle me, and I let her take control of the kiss because she was now grinding herself against me and _fuck_ I couldn't think anymore.

One of my hands came up to tangle in her blonde curls and I groaned into her mouth as she ground harder against my cock, letting me feel her heat through both of our pajama pants. I rolled us over, settling my weight over her carefully, not breaking the kiss.

Her loss of control over the position only fueled the ferocity of her kissing and I fucking _growled_ as she bit my lip and pulled on it. _Fuck_.

I thrust my hips into hers and she gasped, her nails raking hard against my back. Jesus fucking Christ. She was going to be the death of me. Sure, she wasn't doing anything unusual, but everything she did was magnified in effect by the simple fact that it was _her_.

And it... was _her_. That was the thing. I needed this to be different. I didn't want her to be just like the others.

I was having trouble focusing on that, though, as she sat up, forcing me to rock back on my knees as she tugged at the hem of my shirt. Her hands moved down my chest the second she managed to pull it off, traveling over the expanse of muscle as she hummed her approval into my mouth and I had never been so glad that I stayed in shape because hell, she liked it.

I rocked forward again, leading her to lie back down as my hands moved from her hips upward to her ribs and then on to fondle her breasts over her fucking lacy bra, letting my nails scrape lightly over the hardened nipples as I ground into her again, the actions eliciting the loudest gasp from her yet.

I was momentarily distracted when her hands started tugging at the waistband of my pajama pants and I stood, pulling her off of the bed to me, not wanting to stop kissing her for long. Her hands immediately went to my pants again but she was interrupted by me pulling her shirt up and over her head, quickly unclasping her bra and letting it slide off of her shoulders before finally leaving her mouth to give her breasts the kind of attention that I had dreamed of giving them from the day I met her. I kissed my way down her neck and past her collar until I finally reached them, sucking one dark pink nipple while I used my fingers on the other. She gasped and arched her chest towards me, her hands and nails once more going to my back.

Fuck, I loved that.

The hand that wasn't occupied with her perfect tits drifted down, pulling at her pajama shorts until they finally slid down, pooling around her feet as she did the same with mine, yanking my pants and boxers down in one swift motion.

I brought my mouth back to hers, my hands on her waist as I guided her back to the bed. She fell to it when the backs of her knees hit the mattress and I let her scoot back up the bed before joining her, settling myself between her legs.

_Fuck. Condom_.

That thought brought me back to earth. Now my mind _had _to be clear, and it took that opportunity to remind me that I wanted this to be _more _with Rosalie. I wanted... And she had to understand... How do I even explain it?

I had to try.

"Rosalie," I started carefully, gasping as I freed my lips from hers. This was so hard to say, even to myself. I would almost have rather eaten a gym sock – after gym – after taking it off of a very smelly, sweaty fat man with my teeth – than say this. "I've never... done... _this_."

She looked confused. Oh god, don't make me elaborate.

"What?" she asked. "I thought you did it with Lauren?"

"I fucked Lauren..." I said, trying to figure out how to tell her. "But that's... not what I want with you."

"Oh," she said slowly, and something flickered over her face before her features hardened and she pulled herself out from under me, grabbing her tee shirt and shorts off of the floor, pulling them on faster than anything I have ever seen. "Sorry," she spat.

"What?"

"I didn't mean to try to make you do anything you didn't want to do," she said, and she sounded like she was trying to scream but her voice wasn't strong enough. Oh god, was she going to... "God knows," she added, choking out a bitter laugh before hurrying from the room.

I got up, planning to follow her, to find _some way_ to explain, even if I _really _didn't want to, but I had just managed to get my own pants on when Jasper came bursting through the door, practically dragging Alice behind him, who had a grip on his arm. His eyes flew around the room before resting on me.

Jesus Christ, he looked mad enough to spit. And in my experience, guys who look mad enough to spit usually do a _lot _more than that. I felt like I was sixteen again, getting caught by that one girl's father... Jeez, those were bad times. I _really _was not wanting to go through that again. Especially because that was Maine and I don't care _what _people tell you, the people there are more likely to pull a gun on your ass than the deep south. You just don't hear about it because they're also more likely to get away with it.

Maybe Jasper being from the south would work in my favour? Nah. With my luck that would be the one part he retained from being brought up in the north, even if it was on the opposite coast.

"What the fuck did you do?" he demanded, and his voice had reached this register that just scared the shit out of me. I wasn't sure if he was yelling or whispering. He seemed to be achieving both.

"Jazz," Alice whispered, pulling on his sleeve. Maybe I would get lucky and he wouldn't want to kill me in front of her.

"Alice," he said, and it was a warning. Oh dear lord, even Alice wasn't going to be able to get me out of this one. "What. Did you do?" he repeated.

"I didn't _mean_ to do anything," I defended.

"That's not what I asked you," he hedged. "I asked you what you did to my sister."

"I don't _know_!" I exclaimed. With these questions, I would almost rather that he just went ahead and kicked my ass, except I got the feeling that that would be followed by an interrogation and there was really no need to two kinds of pain.

"Emmett," Alice said quietly, patting Jasper's back softly to calm him as his eyes narrowed at her interruption. "What happened?"

"I was... and she was... and we were..." I was gesticulating wildly, trying to convey my point because dear _God_, as much as I love to brag about my own sex life, I don't generally do it in front of the girl's brother. "And... I don't want to..." I took a deep breath. "I don't want to fuck her."

"Oh," Alice said quietly as though that made _perfect _sense. Fuck. It didn't even make that much sense to me.

Jasper's fist collided with the door and Alice cringed. "Jesus fucking Christ, McCarty! Don't you think you should have thought of that _before_?" he asked. "I mean, I really don't want to imagine you and Rosalie... going at it." He seemed to be searching for his next words. Good. At least I wasn't the only one tongue tied. "But _fuck_, don't you think you should have made that decision _before_?" I wondered if he realized he was pretty much repeating himself.

"Jazz, I don't think think that's what he's saying," Alice said soothingly.

"What?" Jasper asked, tearing his eyes from me to look at her incredulously.

"Emmett wants to _make love_ to her," she said, laughing a little. Oh dear God. Could this get any more awkward? Really? Because if it could, I'd just like to get it over with _now_, please. Jasper turned to look at me again, and his expression had turned to incredulity.

"I... am going to throw a shoe at you," he said, raking his hands through his hair, and if I wasn't still afraid that he was going to honest-to-god kill me, I might have laughed at that. "_Why_ did you have to make her cry over a _technicality_ like that?"

Oh jeez. So she _was _crying. Fuck.

"Go... fix this," he hissed. I felt the need to salute. Probably wouldn't be a good idea. He'd probably see it as me being a smart ass. I ducked around him and looked around the hall.

"Outside," Alice whispered.

"Don't help him, Alice."

I didn't hear Alice's answer. I was already halfway down the stairs. It didn't hit me until I hit the door that Alice wasn't really helping me. _Outside _was a lot more space to search than _inside_. Where the hell would she even go? Her car was still in the driveway. So she couldn't have gone far, right? It's not like she had superhuman speed or anything.

I went around to the backyard, and finally found her in the garage there. She was sitting at a work table that was cleared off except for some evil hunk of metal that I could only assume was a part of a car. I didn't know much about cars. I love my Jeep, but still – the dealer services it.

I approached her carefully, half expecting her to turn and hurl that hunk of metal at me. She didn't move, although I thought I could see her shoulders shake every few seconds. Fuck. Jasper was right. I made her fucking cry.

I didn't know what to do when I reached her. Should I hug her? Would that be dangerous? She was, after all, the potential wielder of the evil-looking hunk of metal.

I'd risk that.

I wrapped my arms around her, resting my chin on her shoulder and looking at her face. I had wondered what she had found so fascinating about the evil part, but then I realized that she wasn't even looking at it. Her eyes were shut tightly, her cheeks tear-stained. I think she was holding in sobs or something cause she was steadily turning redder. God, breathe!

I probably shouldn't say that.

"Whatcha doing?" I muttered instead. She moved to wipe her eyes and then opened them to glare at the part in front of her.

"I'm fixing a carburetor," she said. "What does it look like?"

"It looks like you're missing a few tools," I said. Like I said, I wasn't an expert on cars, by a long shot, but I felt like something like that would at least require a screwdriver or a wrench or something.

"Well, then it's a good thing you're here," she spat.

"Ouch," I said. "You know, I've been called a lot of things in my life, but 'tool' is a first."

"Shocking."

"Probably." I buried my face in her hair. "I'm sorry," I said. I felt her shrug.

"It's not like I wasn't expecting it. I just wish you would've been upfront about it instead of..." she trailed off, her mouth opening and closing for a second before she was suddenly on her feet and tossing the carburetor across the garage. See? I knew it would be dangerous. "Instead of fucking _lying_," she spat, spinning to face me.

… What?

"What?" I asked. Clearly it was the only thought I could form.

"I figured that any guy who found out what happened wouldn't want me anymore, but you! You took the next step and pretended you did!" she spat. Her words were angry but her eyes were still watering. "Why the fuck would you do that?"

… What?

"What?"

"All you had to say was that you didn't want me!"

Oh _fuck_. Fuck Jasper for being right about every fucking thing on the planet. Just. Fuck. Him.

"I don't _not_ want you," I said. She rolled her eyes.

"Not enough to sleep with me," she said. "And hell, that must make me pretty fucking repulsive because you sure had no problem fucking Lauren."

"Would you _shut up_ with that?" I asked and immediately regretted it. "Look, I _fucked_ Lauren. That requires _no_ real interest, past the need to get off and she was there and... Do you want us to end up like me and Lauren?" God, why was it so hard to just spit it out? Alice had no problem saying it.

"No," she said.

"Then _why_ would you want me to do that? Fuck, Rosalie, I want..." I inhaled deeply. "What I was trying to say, up there, is that I want... something that means more than that. I want... to _make love_ to you." that sounded exactly as lame as I thought it was going to. I suddenly wished that she _had_ just thrown the damned carburetor at me.

"You... do?" she asked, looking skeptical.

"Fuck, Rosalie, _yes_," I said. She was staring at me like she wasn't understanding what I was saying anymore.

"What?" she finally asked.

"Please don't make me say it again," I groaned. This was so uncomfortable. She was still staring at me and on top of that – "Why is it so fucking hot in here?" I hadn't noticed it before but it was like the fucking desert in here.

"The floors are heated," she said quietly. "Since I work out here in the winter... And it's cold and I'm wearing shorts so I turned it up and you know, heat rises."

"Jesus Christ," I muttered, laughing. She looked at me like she was sure I had lost my mind and that just made me laugh harder.

"What's wrong with you?" she asked.

"I'm sorry. My nerves are shot and I am so fucking tired and all of this and the floors are heated," I laughed. Even I couldn't see what about it was funny but _fuck_ I had to laugh about something.

And then she was laughing, and it was like a weight being lifted from my shoulders. She was laughing. It's okay. She was laughing.

"You're so stupid," she gasped between laughs. That was okay. I'd take that. "Let's go inside."

"I think you should go first. Jasper may go crazy if he thinks for a second that I came back without you," I said, still laughing a little. She nodded and left the garage, pausing by the door to turn the heaters off.

We didn't _make love _that night, but after everything that had happened, I was just glad to be there with her in my arms through the night.

It had to be progress, right? This time two months ago, she would have kicked me the hell out. That was what I kept telling myself.

---

**AN**: I have never written a het lemon from the male's POV (the bit with Lauren didn't count, shh) so please, please dear god forgive me if it sucked ass. It was largely theoretical because obviously I will never find myself in that particular situation. As for the rest of the chapter, well, you can hold it against me because I'm sure some of you are irritated by it. Haha. But, for the record, future lemons will probably be told from Rosalie's POV.

So, on the subject of my disclaimer up there, I've decided that I'm going to marry Dwayne in accounting, because I have more contact with him than anyone else on this planet since my checks are always missing. He has no real say in the matter. I'm thinking a June wedding. You're all invited. :D

/snort

Okay now. /bribes reviewers with... /looks around... Ah! /bribes reviewers with pretty ribbon. Everyone loves a pretty ribbon.


	12. Round Twelve

**Not Without A Fight  
**Annaleise Marie

**Round Twelve**

**AN**: I'm so glad to hear that I'm not the only one to find "making love" to be an awkward term. Haha. Seriously, the whole time I was writing it, I was feeling like Emmett. I was like 'dear god, this dialogue is so fucking awkward'. XD

Also, since the last chapter was all EPOV, I'm going to make it up to those of you who like Rosalie's POV in this chapter by giving it all to her! Hope you enjoy it! Although, if you are under the age of eighteen or do not feel the urge to read a het lemon (yes, you! XD), you will only be enjoying half of it because you will be skipping the last part won't you? _Won't you? _I'm not here to write porn for twelve year olds.

Cyd, you're exempt because you're not that far from being of age, and you've had to listen to me stressing about this part of the story for the last couple weeks. Enjoy, you youngen you!

So now. Moving on. I own the new Boys Like Girls CD, which I am in love with (on the subject, listen to "Two Is Better Than One" for this story), but I don't own Twilight. That belongs to Stephenie Meyer. As always.

---

**RPOV**

I like waking up with Emmett. Even though the night before proved that I don't _completely_ trust him, I chalked that up to the fact that I was still getting to know him, and I still felt safe with him.

Which is why it freaked me out that he was gone when my alarm went off on Tuesday.

I rolled out of bed and went downstairs, lured by the smell of coffee and wondering if he had actually gone home or just down to the kitchen. But when I got there, it was just Alice, sitting at the table and reading the newspaper while sipping on a cup of coffee filled with so much sugar and creamer that it was practically white. I didn't know how she drank that shit.

"Good morning," she said happily as I poured a cup of coffee for myself and sat down across from her.

"Morning," I said. "Where are the guys?"

"It's wrestling season. Jazz went out for a run before school and took Emmett with him," she said. "They should be back soon."

"Ah," I said. That made sense. In fact, I didn't know why I hadn't thought of that. Jasper always went running in the mornings in the season.

"Emmett will be about ready to die when they get back," she said, stirring her coffee idly as she put the paper down.

"Why do you say that?"

"Well, Jasper practically sprints the mile, and Emmett seems more like a weight training type of guy. He's probably not used to that type of workout," she said. I nodded. "So that was quite the blowout you two had last night."

"Alice," I groaned. I didn't really want to analyze it, and she was definitely the type who loved to do that.

"You two really need to work on your communication," she insisted. I sighed, taking a sip of coffee to stop myself from telling her just how much I did _not_ want her advice right now. "You know that like, ninety percent of your fights are because of misunderstandings?" she continued.

"Yeah, Alice, I know," I muttered. "Sometimes I wonder if we're just too different."

"No, you're perfect for each other," she said assuredly. "You just need to figure out how to _talk to each other_, you blockheads."

"Blockhead?"

"Charlie Brown's Christmas was on when I got up with Jazz this morning."

"I see," I said. "You actually spent the night yesterday?"

"Mmhmm," she said.

"Alice," I started, "not that I mind having you here, I really don't, but... why don't you ever stay the night at your house?"

"Mom left," she said quietly.

"What?" I asked, surprised by the answer. "Like, on vacation or for business or something?"

"No," she sighed. "She left... I guess for good."

I was stopped from asking more questions when the front door opened and shut and the next second Jasper came into the kitchen, followed closely by Emmett. Alice had been right. He looked about ready to fall over.

"What's wrong with you?" I asked. He glared at Jasper, who looked supremely unaffected.

"Your brother," Emmett panted, "is out of his... fucking mind."

"It was just a mile."

"In the cold," he continued, ignoring Jasper's comment, wheezing slightly. "I can't breathe. My throat is frozen."

"Poor thing," Jasper deadpanned.

"Alright, alright, there's enough fighting in this house without you two picking at each other," Alice said, walking over to Jasper and wrapping her arms around him. I sometimes wondered about her constant need to have some sort of physical contact with him. A second later, though, she pulled away, wrinkling her nose. "Eww. Jazz, you need to shower." Emmett laughed. "You probably do too," Alice pointed out.

"You're probably right," he admitted easily. "I need to change for school anyway. I'll see you guys at school."

He leaned down to kiss me quickly before leaving. Alice 'aww'd and Jasper shook his head.

"You two just about give me whiplash," he muttered before heading upstairs. Alice laughed.

"Welp, I should be getting ready for school, too," she said, sitting her cup in the sink before waving goodbye and leaving the kitchen. I sighed, draining the last of my coffee and following suit.

---

The day went by slowly. I didn't want to, but in last period I found myself checking the clock over the dry-erase board every two minutes. I kept telling myself it wasn't because I wanted to see Emmett. Sure, I liked him, but I wasn't the type of girl whose life revolved around some guy. I just wasn't.

Or, that was what I kept telling myself.

It didn't stop me from practically bolting to the door when the bell finally rang and hurrying out to the parking lot. He was already there, leaning against his Jeep, smoking.

"You know," I said as I approached him. "If you'd quit that, Jasper might not kick your ass at running like he did."

"If he would run like a normal person, I wouldn't have had any problem with it," he said, grinning. "The guy runs like he's in the 200 meter dash instead of running a mile."

"Excuses," I said. He laughed. "So, do you want to hang out this evening?"

"Practice," he said. "But I was thinking we could go out tonight. Like, first official date type of thing."

"What did you have in mind?" I asked. He just grinned.

"I have an idea," he said. "But you'll have to wait and see."

"I don't know if I like that."

"I'd say that's too bad."

"What if I don't agree to go then?"

"I'd really rather you did," he said. "Because if you don't, I'll have to orchestrate a kidnapping, and that's just annoying. I mean, I've gotta get rope and duct tape and a very large pillowcase. Besides, there's so much potential for it to go badly and the whole evening would just go better if you cooperated."

"You're ridiculous," I informed him. He nodded thoughtfully.

"You love it," he said confidently. "So what do you say?"

"Well... okay," I said, pretending to give it thought. Had to keep up appearances, after all. "But you have to pick me up."

"I don't think that'll be a problem," he said. "Your house isn't too far out of the way, after all."

"And you have to ring the bell," I said.

"Okay," he laughed.

"And you have to sit there and wait for me to finish getting ready while my parents give you the third degree."

"Your parents aren't in town," he pointed out.

"True," I said. "But you have to do the other two."

"Deal," he said, leaning down and cupping my face before kissing me. Dear god, he was a good kisser, whether it was a light, chaste kiss like this one, or hot and heavy like the night before. "I'll pick you up after practice," he said when he pulled away. I nodded. "But now, I've gotta go."

He kissed me quickly again before jogging off toward the gym. I got into my car and headed home. I had to find something to wear.

---

It's too damned cold for most of my date clothes, I realized as I rifled through my closet. Skirts, cute tops, all of it. Too damned cold. And I didn't even know where we were going, so I couldn't even really take the chance on just layering a jacket over one of the tops.

Heels were probably out, too.

What the hell was I supposed to wear?

Knowing Emmett, I would have guessed that we would go to a movie or dinner or something, but why would he be so secretive about something like that? I had to figure that those two options were out.

I finally settled on a light pink sweater-tank under a matching half-jacket that tied in the front with jeans and tennis shoes. Not the sexiest outfit in the world, but versatile.

I had just finished putting on my makeup and making sure that my hair wasn't doing anything weird when the doorbell rang. I thought about running to get it until I heard Jasper and Alice traipsing down the hall. I gave myself one last look-over before going downstairs as well.

Jasper and Alice were sitting on the couch, both leaning forward with their heads rested on their laced hands and looking at Emmett, who was sitting in the chair across from them.

"So what are your intentions with my sister?" Jasper was asking.

"Fuck, guys, I was only joking about the third degree thing," I groaned, smacking Jasper lightly over the back of the head. "You ready to go?" I asked Emmett. He nodded.

"Yeah." He seemed more than ready to get away from Alice and Jasper. They shrugged and stood up to go back upstairs as Emmett and I walked to the front door.

"So what are we doing?" I asked as I grabbed my coat from the hook by the door.

"Dancing," he said. I stared at him, taking in his size skeptically. It seemed like it would be hard for him to be particularly coordinated.

"Can guys like you dance?" I asked.

"Not very well," he admitted. "But you said that no one ever asks you, and I want to." He grinned at me and I tried not to look as surprised as I felt that he had remembered that, and taken it into consideration to boot.

"I'm not dressed for dancing," I pointed out, looking down at my jeans and sweater. He shook his head.

"Don't worry. Where we're going, there's no dress code," he said. "And you look beautiful."

"Where are we going?" I asked as I followed him to the Jeep and let him help me in.

"It's a surprise. You wouldn't want to ruin it, would you?" he asked, grinning at me. I secretly thought that I would probably like to, because God only knows what he had come up with, but refrained from saying that because he just looked so damned excited about it.

We drove for about twenty minutes, slowly winding our way deeper into the backroads of the woods. I kept glancing at him and opening my mouth to ask him where we were going but he'd just shake his head before I could get the words out.

When the Jeep finally stopped we were in a clearing. It was pretty, with snow covering the ground in a clean, unmarked blanket, the trees around the area frosted. But still –

"Why out here?" I asked, looking around for any hints. He had said we were going dancing. What kind of place was this for dancing?

"Well," he said. "Because technically, our 'song' would be whichever one we first dance to. So I figured we could go out, and take a chance on the luck of the draw, or we could have some semblance of control over it."

He pushed the button for CD five on the Jeep's disc changer and then hopped out, coming around to my side to open the door while the disc loaded.

"So, Rosalie Hale," he said quietly as he held his hand out to me. "May I have this dance?"

The first bars of the song started as I took his hand and he helped me down. It sounded familiar, but I couldn't recognize it right away as one of his hands rested on my waist, the other one keeping a hold on mine.

"So I know two dances," he said. "The standard sway slowly in a circle dance, and the foxtrot."

"Why the foxtrot?" I asked. What a random dance.

"Weddings," he said, shrugging. I laughed.

"I don't know the foxtrot," I said and he smiled.

"Good," he said as we started to sway. "I hate that dance."

_We watched the season pull up its own stage  
and catch the last weekend of the last week  
before the gold and the glimmer have been replaced  
another sun-soaked season fades away._

_You have stolen my heart._

"Oh God, Emmett, really?" I asked, finally recognizing the song and raising an eyebrow at him. He shook his head.

"Can't you just enjoy this?" he asked, smiling. "Besides, I don't care what anyone says, I like this song."

_Invitation, all the grand farewells  
crash the best one of the best ones  
clear liquor and cloudy eyes  
too early to say goodnight._

_You have stolen my heart._

"It is pretty perfect," I admitted, resting my head on his shoulder.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

_And from the borrowed floor  
our ardent celebration  
one good stretch before our hibernation  
our dreams assured and we all  
will sleep well, we'll sleep well._

_You have stolen my heart._

I hadn't been exaggerating when I told Emmett that no one ever asked me to dance, but even with my lack of experience, I was pretty sure this was the best first dance anyone had ever had. He smelled good, and as we danced, his hand moved from my waist to allow his arm to wrap around me securely. I was pressed against his solid chest, inhaling his unique Emmett-scent.

_Watch you spin around in your highest heels  
you are the best one, of the best ones  
and we all look like we feel._

_You have stolen my heart._

"Emmett," I muttered as the song ended. He made a sound in the back of his throat to show that he had heard me. I steeled my nerves to say the words that I wanted to say. "Take me home." He pulled back to look at me, looking uncertain. I was pretty sure he knew what I was asking, but was waiting for clarification. "And make love to me."

I looked up into his clear blue eyes for a moment before his head dipped down and his lips were on mine, making me tighten my arms around his neck and raising onto my toes to meet the kiss, opening my mouth gently as he did the same, letting our tongues meet.

When the kiss finally ended and we were in the Jeep again, heading back to Forks, I felt my nerves starting to mount. It was one thing, the night before, when it was happening in the heat of the moment. This was planned, and it gave me time to think.

I wanted this. I wanted _him_. And I wanted to do this for him, as well. He had been so patient with me – and, okay, he had only known about Royce for like a week but I had been giving him hell since day one – and he really did seem to care. But at the same time, my mind was racing, trying to bring forth and at the same time push away the memories of Royce.

Emmett didn't know, and I hadn't told him because what he did know was a lot to take in at once, but it hadn't just happened once. It had been a regular thing – something that I hated, but kept quiet, and kept allowing to happen because I didn't know how else to stop it.

So the idea of now _truly_ allowing it to happen – not saying no, _asking_ for it, even – was nerve wracking. What if, despite the fact that it was Emmett instead of Royce, it was still painful and degrading? What if I ended up resenting him for it, even though I want it now?

_Do I still want it?_

I want to give him this, I was sure about that. Would that be enough to get me through this, even if it _was _bad?

I'm being stupid. It wouldn't be bad. This was Emmett. I knew he would be gentle, not at all like Royce.

Why did the drive have to take twenty minutes? It was giving me too much time to think. I didn't want to think about it. I had been so sure about it before I started thinking about it like this.

"You okay?" Emmett asked and I jerked out of my thoughts to see him glancing between me and the road. I nodded. "Are you sure? You look kind of freaked out."

"I'm fine," I insisted. "Just... nervous, I guess."

"Nervous?" he asked, sounding surprised.

"Yeah," I said. "This will be the first time that I get to decide to do this." I didn't meet his eyes as he parked the car, but I could feel him looking at me.

"Hey," he said quietly. "Thank you." I couldn't not look at him when he said that, and when I did, he was smiling softly.

"For what?" I asked, confused. What would he be thanking me for?

"For trusting me enough for this," he said. "But just so you know, if you decide you aren't ready for this, you don't have to go through with it. I'd understand."

Oh dear god, he was perfect.

I felt my fears ebbing away. This would be okay because _I _was in control of it this time. If I told him to stop, he _would_.

I nodded and he leaned in to kiss me again before getting out of the Jeep and coming around to my side as always to help me out. I could probably manage it without falling by now, but it was a nice gesture that he still helped me.

We were barely in the door of his house before he pulled me to him, bending down to kiss me, his arms wrapping around my waist. The kiss was short, though, before he took my hand and led me up to his room before resuming it, his hands going to the tie of my sweater this time, pulling it loose easily and sliding it off of my shoulders before moving his mouth down to trace along my neck and shoulder, his hot breath teasing me as his hands next moved under my shirt, prompting me to raise my arms so that he could pull it off before releasing the catch on my bra and siding it from my shoulders as well. He lowered himself to his knees, his breath ghosting over my chest, between my breasts and down to my stomach, kissing the skin there softly, raising goosebumps on my skin. I sighed, my hands running through his hair as he bit down lightly on my hip bone before soothing it with his lips and tongue.

His hands moved to the button of my jeans and my heart started thudding.

_Calm down. This is Emmett, not Royce._

I kicked my shoes off as he lowered the zipper of my jeans and hooked his thumbs into them, pulling them down with my panties. I blushed as he was now face to face with my bare sex, my heart rate increasing for a completely different reason now as his breath ghosted across me before he leaned forward to place a soft kiss on the skin. I stepped out of my jeans and suddenly I was completely naked in front of him, and there was something thrilling about being that way when he was still fully dressed.

He stood up once more, his mouth returning to mine as I pulled him to me, kissing him hungrily as I squeezed my thighs together, feeling moisture starting to build up from inside of me. He pulled me impossibly closer, and I marveled at the feeling of his clothing against my bare skin, the soft cotton of his shirt contrasting with the rough denim of his jeans. And then there was the hardness of his erection, straining against his jeans. I lowered my hands and pulled the hem of his shirt up, separating from him long enough to pull it free of him before pressing against him again, working my hands between us to undo his jeans as I pulled the skin of his neck into my mouth, sucking on it and scraping it lightly with my teeth.

"Fuck," he gasped when I finally managed to get my hands to stop shaking enough to successfully undo his pants and slide them down with his boxers to free his straining erection.

He stepped out of his jeans and then wasted no time in walking me backwards to the bed, guiding me to lie down before hovering over me, settling between my legs as he resumed our kissing for a moment before pulling away, sitting back enough to look at me.

I blushed as his eyes raked over my body, feeling the sudden need to cover myself.

"God, you're so beautiful," he breathed and I hadn't thought it would be possible for me to blush more, but I somehow managed it. In an attempt to make him stop staring at me, I leaned up, pulling him down to kiss me as he fell forward, his body covering mine. I felt his cock, hard and smooth, pressed against the inside of my thigh as he groaned into my mouth.

His hand came down between my legs, tracing up one thigh before settling over my center and my heartbeat increased as the nerves returned, but when his fingers swept through my folds, his touch was gentle, grazing from my core to my clit, pausing to press gently against it as I gasped.

"God, Rosalie, you're so wet," he groaned, sweeping his fingers again through my wetness. I pressed against his hand as a shudder went through me at the feeling of his slightly calloused fingers against my sensitive skin. His middle finger settled over my core and I groaned, wanting more, and feeling him smile against my lips as his finger finally slipped in, but only fractionally, to my extreme disappointment.

"Emmett," I whined, pushing my hips down, frustrated that his other hand was now holding my hips to keep me in place.

"Hmm?" he asked innocently, even as his finger was thrusting shallowly in and out of me.

"Please," I gasped.

"What do you want, baby?" he asked and I groaned.

"Please," I repeated, unable to form any other words. He seemed to take pity on me and finally pushed his finger all the way in, pressing upward against my inner walls. I groaned as his hand moved, thrusting, rubbing, driving me over the edge with need. My nails raked down his back and he hissed sharply. I was worried for a second that it had actually hurt him until I met his eyes and they were burning, full of need and raw lust.

"I need you, baby," he rasped. I nodded and he leaned over, pulling open a drawer of his bedside table and fishing around in it, all the while still thrusting his fingers in me. After a moment he withdrew them as he brought a condom wrapper to his mouth, tearing it open with his teeth. There was something in that act that was incredibly erotic and I moaned, spreading my legs further to allow him to settle between them fully as he rolled the condom over his cock before lining himself up with my aching core.

"Are you sure?" he asked quietly. I nodded again, not willing to back out now. Still, there was a part of my mind screaming at me that he was a _lot_ bigger than his finger, and that this was going to _hurt_. I screwed my eyes shut, bracing myself for the pain and tightened my grip on his shoulders as he started pushing into me, but it never came. I shifted my hips experimentally. Still no pain. I felt stretched, and full, but it didn't _hurt_. It was actually pretty damned good.

"Fuck, Rosalie," Emmett groaned, grasping my hips tightly as I shifted them again. "If you want this to happen, you need to hold the fuck still for a second."

The second he said that, it became almost unbearable to hold still. I wanted, _needed_, him to move.

"Emmett," I gasped, trying to keep from moving against him. "Please."

"Fuck," he hissed at my plea before shifting, pulling nearly all the way out and then sliding back in, groaning through his teeth. I gasped. This was so different – this was _really_ good. It was as if I was complete for the first time, without even realizing that I hadn't been before.

He was inside of me, and it was fucking amazing.

He set a slow pace, pushing in a little deeper each time as his mouth captured mine, his tongue moving against mine, mimicking the movements of our hips. Soon, the slow pace wasn't enough. I needed more. I arched my back against him, my chest pressing against his, skin to skin, setting my body on fire as I pushed my hips down to meet his as he thrust in, my legs wrapping around him, using my heels to force him in deeper, harder. He pulled his mouth away from mine, groaning loudly, and it was a heady feeling because _I_ had done that. _I _had made that sound and _I _had caused the look of ecstasy on his face.

"Dammit, Rosalie, you're so fucking tight," he gasped, and I felt my body responding to his words. Hearing him talked like that turned me on more than I ever would have thought possible. "So fucking hot."

"Emmett," I gasped, nearly crying at the frustration caused by his still-too-slow movements. "Faster, please," I begged. "I need more."

He growled at that. Fucking _growled_. It was probably the most erotic sound I had ever heard. He braced himself on his forearms, thrusting harder as he dipped his head down to suck on my collarbone, and my hands clenched at the pressure building inside of me, my nails digging into his shoulders. His teeth sank into my collarbone, not hard enough to hurt, but enough to make me arch against him once more as he thrust in again. The new angle caused him to hit a spot deep inside of me that made me cry out, even as his pelvis pushed against my clit.

"Oh god," I cried, arching harder. "Right there, Emmett!"

His arms wrapped around me, keeping my back arched as he groaned. Apparently my words affected him just as much. He kept thrusting, hitting that spot each time and the pressure continued to build, increasing again when his head dipped down once more, this time taking my nipple in his mouth and sucking hard. It shot a jolt directly to my nether regions, and fuck, if I didn't find a way to relieve this pressure soon I was going to go crazy.

"Emmett," I groaned, grinding myself down against him again. "God, I need to..."

I didn't get a chance to find the words for what I needed, because one of his hands came down and snaked between up, slipping through my folds and finding my clit, rubbing it, rendering me speechless as I cried out, my body tensing from the still-building pressure. He let out a long moan as I felt my body tightening around him. Almost...

"Fuck, baby," he panted. "I need you to come for me, now." And that was it. The pressure seemed to grow and then compress before exploding. I squeezed my eyes shut as I cried out, my nails raking once more down his back. His mouth found mine once more and swallowed my cries, groaning into my mouth as he pushed inside me one last time before stilling. "Fuck, baby. So good," he gasped. "Fuck."

We both rode it out as I trembled around him, my strength leaving me momentarily as I fell back to the bed. He fell shortly after, collapsing beside me, careful not to crush me under his weight. Too soon he was moving away, pulling out of me and going to his bathroom to dispose of the condom. I was still trying to catch my breath. I felt strangely empty without him, but incredibly satisfied. My thighs were still shaking as the shocks of pleasure ebbed away.

God, that had been amazing. I had no idea it could be like that. I smiled as Emmett emerged from the bathroom, climbing back into bed beside me and pulling me against him again. I rested my head on his chest, my eyelids feeling heavy as I came down from my high. I felt him pull the blankets over us and kiss the top of my head before I slipped into sleep as I heard the click of his lighter and smelled the cigarette smoke.

---

**AN**: Ahem. Well, they finally did it. /beats down urge to criticize her own lemon. So. Hope you guys liked the chapter. It was so hard not to go to EPOV when Rosalie propositioned him because I'm sure his mind was just screaming. I thought about splitting this chapter into two chapters actually, but if I'm going to stick to my chapter plan, I just don't have that kind of space.

So... awkward question: Is anyone extremely offended by the word "cunt", in relation to a woman's genitalia, not as an insult? Because I refrained from using it in this chapter, because I don't know how people would react to it, but I prefer it to "pussy", honestly, when I'm writing. I just... I don't know. I just do. So yeah. Actually, I hate the word "pussy". It just annoys me. Obviously, since I would apparently rather use "nether regions". Jesus Christ. Anyway, aside from that, I have a few things to say, most of which are not related directly to this chapter so let's get to that, shall we?

The lyrics of the song used are from "Stolen" by Dashboard Confessional. They are the property of the band and the label and hell, the writer if they didn't write them. I don't know how that all works. The point is, they're not mine. I did, however, delete the repeating lines (ex: "you have stolen my heart" is repeated at least twice every time it appears) just for the sake of it not getting annoying and redundant.

There have been quite a few PMs sent to me over the last few chapters requesting chapters revolving around NWAF's Alice and Jasper, and I'm sorry to say that's not currently in the cards because well, as **favludo **pointed out, this is Emmett and Rosalie's story. HOWEVER. Due to the interest in that side storyline, I would like to introduce "Not Without A Fight: Rematch", a collection of outtakes and side snippets for this story that will revolve mostly around the other couples (primarily Alice and Jasper, but maybe a little bit of Edward and Bella, as they come more into this storyline). I'm now excepting requests/suggestions for outtakes that you guys might be interested in, so if you have one, remember to either include it with your review or send me a PM. You may also email me about it, but please note that my email has changed within the last week so be sure if you've contacted me before that you have the right one. It's now annanocturnal (at) aim (dot) com. If you do email me, be sure to put "NWAF" or "fanfiction" or something in the subject, or I might not open it because of spam.

If you're interested in this, please add me to your author alerts, if you haven't already. I'll try to remember to put an announcement in here when it's posted, but I promise nothing. I'm pretty absent-minded. Haha.

Phileas – you mentioned that Alice and Jasper were your favourite pairing. I have another story, "We Are Pilots", that tells their stories. It doesn't get updated as often as this one, but you are very welcome to check it out. :D

Wow, this is a long AN and says almost nothing about the chapter. Sorry. -.-;;

So I'll leave you guys to share your thoughts now? /bribes reviewers with yummy cookies


	13. Round Thirteen

**Not Without A Fight  
**Annaleise Marie

**Round Thirteen**

**AN**: So as I type this, I am sitting in the triage area of the ER because apparently what I thought was a cold was actually blood clots forming in my sinuses. So I'm waiting for a bed so they can do their shit and find out _why_ it's happening, and I'm going to kill that time writing this chapter! Yay, right?

In other news, this story broke 100 reviews and 4,000 hits this morning. God, I was so happy, you have no idea! Thanks to all of you who have made that possible! You guys mean the world to me, really! :D

I have to say that if you're not over 18 (or the legal age in your country or whatever), you should not read this chapter. Any of it. Really. But we all know you're going to ignore me, aren't you? Yup. I know. I was underage once, too.

I'm secretly Stephenie Meyer, and I totally own Twilight. Pfft. See? You didn't buy it. It makes me question why we must disclaim this. Sigh.

---

**EPOV**

I woke up at four in the morning to my phone ringing and cursed under my breath, reaching for it quickly to silence the ringer before it woke Rosalie up. If she was anywhere near as exhausted as me, she wouldn't appreciate that.

_God, last night..._ I thought as I checked the caller ID before answering.

"Yeah?" I said quietly as Rosalie stirred slightly.

"Dude, come on, we're running," Jasper's voice announced. I groaned.

"I _really_ don't feel like it this morning, man," I said and I could almost _feel_ his eyes roll through the phone.

"If I didn't run every morning that I didn't feel like it, I'd be in terrible shape," he said. "Now let's go. If you don't start getting used to this, the track is going to kick your ass at practice every day."

I doubted that. If I weren't so exhausted from running in the morning, I felt like running at practice would be easier.

"Fine," I grumbled despite these doubts. "I'll be out in five." The call ended. God, don't people say goodbye anymore? I like for my conversations to have a distinct beginning and end.

I pulled myself away from Rosalie reluctantly, trying not to wake her and going to my closet to pull out a set of sweats and change before leaving a note on the bedside table for her, explaining where I went. I figured it would be good for someone to know where I was, just in case running with Jasper actually did kill me this time.

"So," Jasper said when I met him on the sidewalk in front of our houses, "I gather that your date went well last night, considering my sister never came home?"

"That is _not_ something I really want to discuss with you." Or anyone else, I added in my mind. Rosalie wasn't just some slut that I had hooked up with and planned to brag about in the locker room for a round of high fives.

"Ah, that well, then?" he asked, wiggling his eyebrows at me as we started off at a jog. It was misleading. He would more than triple his speed within the next half minute.

"Jasper, shut up," I grumbled.

"Okay, okay," he said, shrugging. "Don't get your panties in a bunch."

The rest of the mile was silent, mainly because by the halfway point I couldn't have gathered up enough oxygen to speak if I had wanted to. As it was, I was grateful for these circumstances. Last night had been _special_, as cheesy as it sounds, and I didn't want Jasper all over my ass about it.

I had never been so concerned with a girl's experience as I was with Rosalie. Making it good for her was so much more important than enjoying it myself. Not that I hadn't. It was probably the most amazing experience of my life so far. I just hoped she enjoyed it as much.

I tried not to think about it – not because it wasn't a good thought, but because thinking about how she felt around me, how she had screamed my name, how goddamned beautiful and vulnerable she looked when she was laid out before me, open to me, was making it very difficult to run.

Jesus fucking Christ, I hoped it was as good for her because hell, I was sure I wasn't willing to give this up yet, if ever.

_If ever_.

The fact was, I would most likely have to give her up. Unless I managed to stay here until graduation and get into college nearby, I was going to have to move again. That thought hurt, more than it really should.

I had to ignore it for now, pretend it wasn't a reality. I wanted to enjoy my time with Rosalie, and that wouldn't be possible if I spent my time dwelling on what could happen in six months, or a year, or however long it would be before Mom uprooted us again.

Jasper and I parted ways as we arrived back on our street. I looked at my watch. Four thirty. I could still sleep for about two hours before I finally had to go to school. An hour and a half if I showered. And I should definitely shower. Between last night's workout and this morning's, I was probably less-than-fresh.

Rosalie was still asleep when I got to my room, face-down on the bed, the sheet and blanket bunched around her waist, the smooth expanse of her back exposed to my eyes. I wanted nothing more than to climb back into bed with her, to run my hands over her smooth skin, to kiss her all over.

But really, I shouldn't wake her up, and I _did_ need to shower.

I went into the bathroom, turning on the water and stripping out of my workout clothes before stepping into the water, sighing at the feeling of the warm water going over my body, soothing the tense muscles.

I washed quickly, wanting to get it done so that I could get back into bed with Rosalie. Rosalie, who was fucking naked in my bed. Fuck, not waking her up was going to be hard. I felt my neck, noticing that it was sore in one spot and then remembering Rosalie scraping at it with her teeth the night before. Fuck, Rosalie... She was so fucking responsive. I was sure I still had nail marks on my back; I had felt them burn slightly when the hot water hit them.

I was getting hard again, thinking about Rosalie and her fucking nails and teeth and her body arching against mine, begging for more. Jesus fucking Christ, was this how it was going to be from now on, now that I knew what it was like? Was I going to be stuck walking around half-hard all of the time?

I groaned as my dick throbbed insistently. I couldn't go back out there like this. I wouldn't be able to stop myself from waking her up.

I reached down and grabbed my cock, stroking hard, wanting to finish this quickly. It felt wrong, somehow, to be doing this with Rosalie on the other side of the wall, only like ten feet away.

Fucking _naked_.

I groaned, leaning with my forearm against the wall in front of me, muffling the sound against my arm as I continued to stroke myself, memories of the night before flooding my mind.

Rosalie spreading her legs invitingly, her warm, wet cunt taking my fingers, and then my dick, tight and hot and so, so wet around them, bearing down with her hips, screaming my name, begging me to go faster, deeper.

I came hard, biting the inside of my cheek to keep from groaning too loudly. I was sweating, even under the shower water, and I nearly laughed at the irony of the fact that I had come in here to get clean and had actually wound up sweating more.

I rinsed off again and then turned off the water, drying off quickly before going back into the bedroom and pulling on a pair of boxers before finally crawling back into bed, snuggling up against Rosalie, wrapping my arm around her before falling asleep again.

---

**RPOV**

I woke up, surrounded by the undiluted smell of Emmett and soap. I raised my head to look at the clock and sighed. The alarm would go off in ten minutes. I didn't want to move. I was too comfortable, too happy here.

I needed to shower. I felt sticky with dried sweat and well, bluntly put, the residue of my own arousal. I sighed and pulled myself out of bed, padding to the bathroom, gathering up my clothes on the way. Considering the time, I was glad I had worn something different for our date than I had to school because I probably wouldn't have time to go home and change.

The date... As short as it had been, it was perfect, nonetheless. And then the sex... God, the sex had been _amazing_.

I heard the alarm go off as I dried off from my quick shower, my head still swimming with the memories. It was going to be hard to concentrate in school today. I dressed quickly and went back into the bedroom, running a towel through my hair. I know he was a guy and all, but who the hell doesn't have a hair dryer?

Emmett was already dressed and lacing up his shoes. Stupid boys and their stupid ability to roll out of bed and get ready in two minutes and still look good.

"Good morning," he said, grinning. I smiled back, suddenly very nervous about talking to him. What was I supposed to say? 'Oh yeah, by the way, thanks for the great sex last night'? I somehow didn't think so.

He stood, crossing the room to me and leaning down to kiss me softly before pulling away again.

"Coffee?" he asked, leading the way out of his room and down to the kitchen. I took a seat at the table while he filled the coffee maker before leaning back on the counter. "So," he started, grinning. "Are we going to do the awkward morning after thing?"

"I didn't really want to," I mumbled, feeling my face heat up. He laughed.

"Kind of inevitable, though?"

"Kind of," I said as the coffee maker beeped to signal that it was done and he turned to pour two cup of coffee before coming to the table and sitting one in front of me.

"Insult me or something," he said, still smiling. "At least then I'll know you're normal."

"I don't really have anything to insult you for at the moment," I admitted. He grinned.

"Yeah, well, I'm pretty damned amazing," he said jokingly.

"No, you are," I confirmed before I thought about it. He laughed.

"Well, that's something," he muttered, taking a drink of his coffee. I stared down at mine, biting my bottom lip. Why was this so awkward?

Communication, Alice had said. But what should I say?

"Thanks for last night," I said, my eyes flicking up to meet his. "The dance and... everything."

"You don't have to thank me for that," he said, laughing. God, how was he so at ease with this? "Calm down, babe," he said.

"What?"

"First, we had sex; no need to tiptoe around that fact. Second, I don't know about you, but it was great for me," he said seriously. "So calm down."

I nodded, even though I still felt like it was easier said than done.

"So I guess I'll see you at school," he said when we had finished our coffee. I raised an eyebrow at him in surprise.

"You don't want to just go together?" I asked. What was the point in taking separate cars? We were in the same place, going to the same place.

"I do, but if we take my car you'll be stuck at school until I get out of practice, and if we take your car, well, you'll _still _be stuck until after practice. Either that, or I'll be stranded at the school," he said. That made sense. Okay. So he wasn't just trying to get away from me. That was something, I guess.

I stood up and went over to him, raising up on my toes to kiss him shortly, his arms winding around my waist.

"See you at school," I said, knowing full well that our paths wouldn't cross during the day.

"Count on it," he said, kissing me one more time before releasing me to go out to my car.

---

**EPOV**

I felt antsy all day. I figured that the awkwardness from this morning would fade, and I wanted to see Rosalie. Her car had been in the student parking lot when I arrived, but she was apparently already in the school.

_No, you are_, she had said when I joked about being awesome. Fuck, coming from Rosalie, that was practically a "You are a sex god, Emmett, and I now worship you like the fucking saviour of the world".

I was feeling pretty damned pleased with myself. I resisted the urge to give myself a pat on the back. Not that I didn't clearly deserve it. It would just be kind of weird.

I didn't bother going to the cafeteria during lunch period. I wouldn't find her there. The problem was, I didn't know where I _would _find her.

I spotted Bella in Hall A, putting her books into her locker. Maybe she would know? I had no sooner got within two feet of her, however, when her books decided that they did not want to go into her locker and fell back down. She let out a short scream, covering her head as they rained down on her. I bent down to help her gather them back up.

"Are you okay?" I asked and she blushed, taking the books from me without meeting my eyes.

"Fine," she mumbled. "I'm kind of a klutz."

"Obviously," I said, chuckling. She bit her bottom lip, looking embarrassed. "Hey, no worries, shit happens," I added.

"Yeah," she agreed with a sigh. "Thanks for helping. People usually just walk past me, or kick the books further away."

"Really? That's rude."

"I don't think they mean to do it. They just don't seem to notice that they're on the floor. Although it's not very convenient," she said, shrugging. I didn't tell her that I wouldn't put it past high schoolers to do it on purpose. It wouldn't really help anything.

"So, you wouldn't happen to know where Rosalie is, would you?" I asked instead. She nodded.

"Yeah, she goes to the library during lunch," she said, shutting her locker. "So I hear you two had quite the night," she added.

"What?" I asked quickly. She raised an eyebrow at me.

"Your date? She said you took her dancing," she said. "I think it's nice. She kind of intimidates people, you know, so things like that just don't happen for her. Lucky her, in my opinion. Graceful people don't realize what it's like to have to dance when you're, you know, not." She looked at me for a second as I mulled over what she had said. So she meant the dance. Rosalie hadn't told her... I was somehow relieved. I kind of wanted to keep what had happened between us, as our business. "I'm sorry, I'm rambling," Bella said when I didn't say anything. I blinked, focusing on her again.

"Oh. No, you weren't," I said. "I just kind of... spaced out for a minute. Anyway, I'm going to go find Rosalie. I'll see you later, Bella."

She nodded before leaving in the direction of the cafeteria as I headed for the stairs.

I didn't see Rosalie when I got to the library and decided to do a lap around the rows of shelves, finally spotting her in the last row, standing with her back to me, a book open in her hands. I snuck up behind her – no easy feat for a guy my size – and put my hands on her hips, leaning down to kiss the top of her head quickly, straightening back up so she wouldn't break my nose or something when she jumped violently, turning and smacking me in the chest with the book in her hands.

"Emmett," she whispered loudly when she saw me. "Jesus Christ, you scared me."

"Expecting someone else?" I asked.

"I wasn't expecting anything, you snuck up on me," she pointed out. I shrugged.

"So this is where you hide out during lunch?" I asked, taking the book from her and looking at the cover. _BMW Z3 Repair Manual_. Fascinating. I didn't know that school libraries stocked these.

"Better than trying to digest the shit they call food," she said, taking the book back from me. I nodded. "Why are you hiding out?"

"Oh, you know, looking for a good repair manual," I said casually before I met her eyes, smiling. "And I wanted to see you."

"Really?"

"No, not really," I said and she dropped her eyes back to the book, chewing her bottom lip. Fuck, what the hell happened to her confidence? "Of course, really," I said, placing my hand under her chin to make her look at me again before bringing my mouth to hers, kissing her gently. She smiled into the kiss, wrapping her arms around me, the book still in her hand resting against my back. I pushed her back carefully against the shelves, pressing my body to hers and deepening the kiss.

Fuck, I couldn't believe how much I still wanted her. Usually the thrill was gone once I had slept with a girl. Not Rosalie. It was the complete opposite with her. Now that I had had her once, I couldn't stop thinking about the next time.

I heard the book drop to the floor as her hands came to my waist, using my belt loops to pull me closer to her. I groaned at the friction this caused against my hardening dick and she took the opportunity to slip her tongue into my mouth. She rubbed herself against me as her tongue battled with mine. Fuck, she was going to kill me with this shit.

But what a way to go.

Before I knew it she was turning us so that now my back was pressed against the shelves and she pulled her body away from mine enough to move her hands between us to pop open the button on my pants. Jesus fucking Christ, what was she doing? Here, in the library? The school library? The school library that a _lot _of people used?

Holy shit, my girl was an exhibitionist. That was so fucking _hot_.

I groaned as she lowered the zipper of my pants and after only a moment's hesitation, reached timidly into my boxers, wrapping her soft hand around my dick. She bit my lip lightly, bringing me back to my senses enough to remember that I _really _needed to be quiet. I was pretty sure this would be worth a long suspension, if not full expulsion.

She stroked me a few times before pulling her mouth from mine and lowering herself to her knees.

Fuck fuck fuck no _fucking _way was she going to –

But she was. The next second my boxers and jeans were resting dangerously low, held up only by her hands on my thighs. "Babe, you don't have to—" I had to cut myself off as I clenched my teeth to hold back the moan that was trying to rip from my throat as her tongue came out to flick around the head of my dick.

"Shh," she hissed before going back to work. My head fell back against the shelves as her hot mouth engulfed me and I clenched my teeth so hard that I thought they might break, breathing hard through my nose. She sucked hard as she drew back, her lips curling in to cover her teeth and her tongue dragging hard along the underside of my shaft before swirling around the head again.

I was almost angry for a moment as I wondered how the fuck she had gotten so fucking good at this. Had Royce made her do this? But my mind was wiped blank as she moved back down and I felt the tip of my dick hit the back of her throat. _Fuck_.

A few more hard sucks and the sensation of hitting the back of her throat again and I was winding my fingers into her hair, trying not to push her down on me but needing to touch her. She hummed so quietly that I might have missed it if it weren't for the fucking vibrations that traveled through my dick. I bit back a moan at the waves of pleasure that crashed through me at that.

Fuck, I was close. I could feel it building up, ready to burst forth – literally. I couldn't come in her mouth. Well, I could, but I wasn't sure how she'd feel about that and I _really _didn't want to gross her out.

"Rosalie," I whispered, trying my best to hold back my groans now that my mouth was open. "Baby, you have to stop or I'm going to—"

She hummed again, not easing her ministrations in the least, and my head fell back again as I felt my balls tightening. Fuck, if she wanted it, I wasn't going to argue.

She traveled up and down my dick once, twice, and then my vision went black for a moment as I released into her mouth, feeling her swallow around me, my teeth clenched once more and my body shaking with the effort of not crying out.

When it was over, and she had tucked me back into my underwear and fixed my pants, I looked down at her, her face flushed and her lip swollen and _fuck_ she just got more beautiful by the day.

I was just about to pull her up to me again when we heard footsteps approaching. She hopped up onto the balls of her feet quickly, reaching towards the book she had dropped and starting to stand back up just as the librarian appeared around the shelf.

"What are you doing?" she asked, eying Rosalie suspiciously as she straightened up.

"I dropped a book," she said calmly. "Just picking it up."

"And you?" The librarian's eyes swung to me and fuck, I wasn't sure if I could form a coherent sentence yet. My mind was still half-scrambled from the _fucking amazing blow job_ I had just received and that I knew I shouldn't mention but hell, it was all I could think about.

"He's going to help me fix my car," Rosalie said without missing a beat, holding up the manual to show the librarian. "We were just looking for some reference material."

At that moment the bell rang and the librarian gave us one last doubtful glance before saying, "You two should get to class."

She walked away and I nearly collapsed against the shelves. God, that had been close. Thank god Rosalie's mouth was multi-talented. She smirked at me.

"Fuck, babe," I said, still trying to calm my breathing. It was all I could think of, except to pull her to me again and kiss her quickly, knowing that if we didn't move soon the librarian would probably come back to see what was taking so long.

"Hmm, I guess I'd better check this out, then," she said when we separated, still smirking.

"Weren't you going to, anyway?" I asked.

"No," she said, laughing. "I don't have a Z3."

---

Although Rosalie had _definitely_ eased the tension I had been carrying all morning, I spent my afternoon thinking of how I could settle the score. I now owed her, and I planned to deliver.

I wanted to taste her. I wanted to make her writhe and beg and then, finally, when she had begged enough for me to let her come, have her release under my mouth.

I had to stop thinking about it before wrestling practice. I didn't need to be in a locker room with a ton of guys in fucking singlets – as I had learned the leotard-things were called – while I was hard as a fucking rock. Jesus fucking Christ, I had never had this much trouble controlling my body. It was fucking ridiculous. How was she doing this to me? I may be a teenage boy, but I usually had at least the smallest amount of control over my body.

Not with Rosalie.

I thought of the most horrible things I could as I headed to practice at the end of the day: dead puppies, tub girl, jar squatters, the pain olympics, Rosie O'Donnell in a bikini.

Fuck, now my inner eyes hurt.

I focused for the rest of practice between focusing on the other guys to keep me from thinking about Rosalie and focusing on _not_ focusing on them _too _much.

It was a relief when the coach finally let us go, and I all but bolted from the gym, stopping in my tracks when I spotted Rosalie leaning against her car on the other side of the parking lot. She had waited for me?

And then out of nowhere came Lauren fucking Mallory, pain in the ass, stupid bitch extraordinaire. I sighed, resisting the urge to dodge her because well, she looked like she felt the need to say something and as annoying as she was, that would be rude.

"Hey Emmett," she said, batting her eyelashes. Jesus fucking Christ. "You haven't called in awhile."

_And I have no intention of doing it ever again._

"Sorry, Lauren," I said, hoping to convey that it was just to be polite and I was _not_ in any way sorry. She didn't seem to get it, though. Stupid fucking airheaded...

"I was wondering if you'd want to do something tonight," she said suggestively.

_Yes, but not with you. Ever._

"I'm busy," I said, spotting Rosalie walking up behind Lauren.

"I'll make it worth your time," she said, throwing me what I'm sure she thought was a seductive look. Rosalie was now directly behind her, looking ready to spit.

"What did I tell you?" Rosalie demanded, pulling Lauren away from me by her hair. Goddammit, that looked painful. "_What_ did I tell you about him being off-limits?"

"Oh _please_," Lauren sneered, and I knew it was a _huge_ mistake as Rosalie's eyes flashed and her grip tightened. But did Lauren stop? Of course not. Stupid bitch. "He wanted me _long_ before he wanted you."

"He fucked you because I don't give it away that easily, but he _never_ picked you, you slut," Rosalie ground out between her teeth. I bit my cheek to stop myself from laughing. That's my girl.

"Oh shut up," Lauren spat. "He's _never _turned me down."

This was kind of true. But only because hell, she was _easy_. And it had only been three times total, including the party. It wasn't like I was boning her on a regular basis.

"You know, he's too polite to hit a girl," Rosalie hissed, still gripping Lauren by her hair. Oh jeez. This was going to end badly. "But I'm not."

"Okay, no need for that," I interrupted, reaching to remove Rosalie's hand from Lauren's hair and then separating them. "Although, I might not be here next time she sees you," I directed at Lauren. "So you may want to watch your step. Just a thought."

"You can't seriously want to be with _her_," Lauren sneered. I shook my head, my temper fraying.

"Oh believe me, I can," I said. She gaped at me and I reached out to close her mouth gently. "Now really, your mouth is only good for one thing. Try to keep it shut the rest of the time."

I wouldn't normally even dream about talking to a girl like that, no matter how annoying they were being. But fuck, no one insults my girl. _No one_.

I heard Rosalie laugh shortly before stifling it. Lauren glared at me for a moment and then spun on her heel and stomped off.

"You don't deserve _this_, anyway," she shouted over her shoulder.

"I'm okay with that," I said, smirking. Rosalie laughed again, this time not bothering to stifle it as she wrapped her arms around me, laughing into my chest.

"Oh my god," she gasped. "I can't believe you said that. That was _awesome_."

I laughed as well, hugging her.

"And now, I believe I owe you for something," I said, grinning as I pulled her into the Jeep before speeding home, assuring her that we would most definitely be back for her car later.

---

**AN**: The scene of Emmett's payback will _not_ be in this story, as I desperately need to do a timeskip soon or everything will go to hell. HOWEVER. I have written it, and I will send it to anyone who reviews when I reply, unless you note that you do not want it. So if you DO NOT want it, remember to tell me, lest I scar your mind forever. :D

Next chapter will be Christmas (I was going to wait to make that a special chapter, like Thanksgiving, but well, if I do that you'll have to wait until the twenty-fifth for it, and no one wants that, now, do they?) and then after that we shall timeskip like no one's business. :D

**maldita –** Your review actually made me laugh for a second. Not because it was a stupid question, but because it was something I had just been wondering about. I probably won't clarify it in the story because I want their relationship to progress naturally in that sense, without the extreme use of labels, but yes, for the record, I'd say that they are a couple. Like, officially. :3

/bribes reviewers with endless love. What more could you really want in life? Hmm?


	14. Round Fourteen

**Not Without A Fight  
**Annaleise Marie

**Round Fourteen**

**AN**: F-f-f-f... FIFTY REVIEWS. FIFTY? Oh God. I love you guys! That is the most amazing thing I have ever seen! Thank you all _so_ much! Seriously, I can't begin to tell you guys what it meant to me. :D

Sigh. You know what? Fuck the chapter limit. I'm going to write this shit until it's done, and then I'll stop, even if it takes forty chapters. The original Round Fourteen was more than 15,000 words. Probably closer to 20,000 actually. The file got corrupted and I had to rewrite, so now it's spread out over four chapters so I can get it to you sooner.

So now, the first of the Christmas arc, woooo! It's going to be quite dramatic. And again, let's remember that my family gets all dressed up for things like this. Plus, I really enjoy the idea of Emmett in a suit.

Quite a long lemon in here, as well. Seriously, it's like a third of the chapter. Underage people, you know the rules! You pretend not to read it and I'll pretend that I don't know you did.

Okay. I own Spongebob Season One on DVD, because _nothing _will guarantee that I buy something quite like nostalgia, but I don't own Twilight. That belongs to Stephenie Meyer.

---

**EPOV**

One month. One month I've been with Rosalie. Well, pretty much. One month since I realized I loved her, anyway, and only a few days shy of that since we officially became a couple.

A couple. Christ that sounds weird. I'm not the "couple" type. I don't do the boyfriend thing. I've never felt any desire whatsoever to be anyone's boyfriend.

Well, at least that was the truth a month ago.

A month. Fuck. It seemed like it had only been a few days, but here it was, the start of winter break, and I was waiting for my last class to finally be over so I could see my _girlfriend_ of _a month_.

A month. Why was it so hard to wrap my mind around it? I guess it's probably because I've never seen anything as lasting in any way, especially not my relationships with girls. Hell, I hadn't had _relationships _with girls. Not since third grade when Grace Welsh decided I was her "boyfriend". And that didn't count because back then, girls had cooties.

I'm pretty sure the fathers of many states cringed when I discovered that that just wasn't true.

I hurried to the gym after school for the last practice before break – the last practice before the match with Insight, and Royce – knowing that Rosalie would be waiting to say goodbye to me before she went home.

Practice had quickly become the bane of my existence. I guess I was good at wrestling, but it didn't really make it worth it to me. I was only there so that I would have an excuse to beat Royce to a bloody pulp – or, as close as I could manage without warranting a lawsuit – without actually having to join the mafia or something. But it took away from my time with Rosalie, which drove me crazy.

She was leaning against the wall by the entrance to the gym when I got there, smiling when she saw me. I always loved to see her smile because it was so rare for her, that it almost felt like she saved it just for me.

Fuck, I'm too far gone.

She leaned up to kiss me when I reached her, wrapping her arms around me. I immediately started cursing practice in my head because this was so much better. I sighed, resting my forehead against hers.

"I'll see you after practice?" I asked. She shook her head. Well hell, I was really just asking as a formality. I hadn't expected her to say no.

"My parents came back today," she said. "It would be hard to explain why you're there."

"Aren't you going to tell them about Royce?" I asked. She sighed. This had become something of a debate with us.

"Emmett, it's really not worth it," she said. "They're only in town a few days out of the month. And after the holidays, it'll probably be even less."

"It's not worth it?" I repeated. Well, it was the first time that she had phrased it that way.

"You know what I mean," she said.

"Yeah," I said, pulling away from her. "I have to get to practice. I guess I'll see you at some point." Yeah, okay, I was being short with her but hell; did you hear what she said?

"Emmett," she started. I shook my head, walking away.

"You should get home," I said as I pulled open the door to the gym and ducked in. I felt bad for how I had talked to her but how else was I supposed to make her understand how important it was to me that she told her parents? Just explaining it to her hadn't worked, and I had meant it when I first met her and I had said that I wasn't into the whole sneaking around thing.

Mainly because I was fully prepared to shout it from the rooftops that Rosalie Hale was _mine_, but we'll ignore that for now and just focus on the fact that sneaking around is just way too much effort for a lazy fucker like myself.

I couldn't focus at all during practice. I think I did well. I was certainly angry enough to do well.

I wasn't really mad at Rosalie, or at least, I don't think I was. I was mad at what she had said. She didn't think it was worth it to tell her parents. She didn't think _we _were worth it.

Being with me was not worth pissing off her parents by telling them that she wasn't dating Royce anymore. And as if that wasn't a frustrating enough thought, I couldn't figure out why she was so convinced that her parents would be mad. If she explained to them _why_ she wasn't with him anymore, they couldn't be, could they? I mean, no parents could actually be upset if their daughter left a guy who was beating and raping her, right?

But it didn't matter how I tried to explain it to myself because it simply 'wasn't worth it'.

Don't judge me as a girl when I say that kind of broke my heart.

I would do anything for her. _Anything_. But she wouldn't even tell her parents that she was with me because it _wasn't worth it_.

I was reeling. Fucking _reeling_. I've never fully appreciated that word before, but id described my mind perfectly in that moment.

Eventually I stopped trying to make sense of it and just quit thinking, throwing my mind into autopilot. Before Ieven really processed it, I was leaving the gym again and heading for the Jeep.

"Emmett, man!" I turned around to see Jasper hurrying towards me. "Jeez, man, I thought you were going to leave me here."

"Leave you?" I asked. "I wasn't aware that I was supposed to be waiting for you."

"Yeah, well, when a guy asks you to give him a ride home, he probably doesn't want to hang onto the bumper," he said. I just stared at him, confused.

"When did you ask me for a ride home?" I asked.

"Like five minutes ago, remember? 'Hey man, can I get a ride home?'" he said before puffing himself out in what I guess was supposed to be an impression of me, but really just made him look like a bulldog. "'Huh? Oh, yeah, sure, yeah, because I'm Emmett McCarty and I'm only pretending I'm paying attention.'"

"Sorry," I muttered.

"Are you okay?" he asked as we pulled out of the parking lot.

"Yeah, just distracted," I lied.

"Ah, right, first real holiday with Rosalie," he said knowingly.

"What?"

"Well, I mean, I know you were kind of with her on Thanksgiving… sort of… but not like this," he said. "And besides, Thanksgiving isn't a real holiday. It's something people made up to fill November. And there's not the whole pressure of the gift thing."

Oh. Fuck.

The gift thing.

Mother _fucker_.

"You haven't even thought about that, have you?" Jasper asked, sounding surprised. I shook my head and he let out a low whistle. It reminded me of the sound missiles make in movies before… _POW! _"Well, do you have any ideas?"

"I don't know, man," I sighed. "I'd want to get her something that... means something. But I'm not really the romantic type."

"Says the guy who orchestrated the great dance date of 2009," he said skeptically.

"I kind of stumbled into that one. I just thought she'd like it, I didn't really think it would be _that_ awesome," I admitted.

"Well," Jasper said slowly, staring out the window as he thought about it. "I got Alice a poesy necklace for our anniversary last year."

"What the hell is a poesy?"

"It's kind of like a promise ring, I guess. You can find them for basically anything. Friendship, love... Hell, you could probably find a 'thanks for the fuck' poesy. I mean, anything," he said, shrugging. "They also make rings and stuff, if you don't want to copy Alice's."

"What does hers say?" I asked. A small smile spread across his face. Ten bucks says it's something mushy.

"I love you, I love you more," he said. Yup. I called that. "It's this twisty circle thing, so that no matter which way you turn it, you can keep reading the message forever. They symbolize eternity or some shit. It seemed like something Alice would almost need, what with her issues."

"You're a regular romantic," I said, laughing. He rolled his eyes.

"Yeah, just don't tell anyone. It'll ruin my rep," he said. "I don't know, Alice likes shit like that. And it just comes naturally for me to do it for her."

"That's so sweet it's nearly sickening," I said. He shrugged again, unbuckling his seatbelt as I pulled into my driveway.

"Anyway, I've gotta think of something for Alice. Talk to you later, man," he said.

"Later," I repeated. A poesy sounded like a good idea, but where the hell was I going to get _that_? I had never even seen one of them. Or, not that I could recall, anyway.

Oh, mighty Google, you are going to save my ass. Hopefully.

---

Two hours later, and I am officially in love with Google. It turned up the _perfect _ring.

A simple gold band, etched with the phrase, _gra anois agus go deo_.

I heard the front door open and close but didn't pay any attention, figuring that it was my mom. Two minutes later, however, I became very aware that I was being watched. I spun around to see Alice standing behind me, staring at the computer screen over my shoulder.

"What the _fuck_, Alice?" I shouted. She turned her gaze to me, not seeming at all surprised by my outburst. "What are you doing here?"

"Jasper said that you were looking for Rosalie's Christmas present. Is that it?" Alice asked, looking strangely worried about this fact.

"It was, until you started giving me that look," I said. She shook her head.

"You can't give her _that_," she said, wrinkling her nose.

"Why not?" I asked.

"It's gold."

"Yeah. So?"

"So Rosalie is blonde," she said as though that should make sense. She rolled her eyes. "Blondes look _terrible_ in gold. Order it in silver or white gold or something." She pulled out the chair beside me and sat down, leaning forward to look at the screen as I changed the order information. "So what's the inscription mean?"

"Nothing important," I lied. If I could comfortably tell anyone, it would probably be Alice. But something about Rosalie made me want to keep things more personal, just between us. Of course, I wasn't really ready to tell even Rosalie what it meant.

_Especially_ not Rosalie, actually. Not yet.

"Hmm," Alice hummed. I could tell she didn't believe me but she didn't push it. She was probably filing the phrase away to Google later or something. "Okay. You may want to minimize that, though. Rosalie will be here soon," she said.

"How do you know that?"

"Because she told me." Oh. Well, duh, I guess.

Alice plopped down in one of the other chairs in the living room as I sent my order and shut the laptop, making it clear that she wasn't going anywhere. I quirked an eyebrow at her and she shrugged.

"Jasper made me leave. He's shopping for my Christmas present," she said by way of explanation before a smile spread across her face and she leaned towards me conspiratorially. "Hey, do you know what he's getting me?" she asked.

"Sorry," I said, shaking my head. "And even if I did know, I wouldn't tell you."

"Why not?" she demanded, pouting. I was saved from having to answer by a knock at the door.

"That'll be Rosalie," Alice announced.

"Doesn't it strike you as odd that she knocks and you don't?" I asked, getting up to answer the door. She shrugged.

I wasn't sure how I felt about seeing Rosalie again this soon. I was still kind of stung by what she said earlier. I should have known, though, that I wouldn't be able to stay mad when I actually saw her again. Without doing anything, she made me feel like a complete tool for how I had talked to her earlier.

And that feeling was only intensified when she stepped across the threshold and wrapped her arms around me, leaning up to press her lips to mine.

"I missed you," she breathed when she pulled away. Okay, that was weird, even for Rosalie, queen of the ups and downs.

"What?" I asked, completely puzzled.

"Just… listening to my parents going on and on about Royce," she said. "It just makes me want to see you more."

"You know, if you'd tell them, it wouldn't be as bad," I suggested.

"Emmett…" she sighed.

"Rosalie," I retorted. She rolled her eyes.

"Anyway," she continued, apparently deciding to ignore the subject. "My parents want me to invite you and your mom to the Christmas party on Christmas Eve."

"Christmas party?"

"The Hales are socialites, through and through," Alice said from the living room. "Even in tiny-ass Forks. Their Christmas parties are legendary. The whole town turns up for it."

"And here I thought I was special, getting invited," I said.

"Sadly, no," Alice said, shaking her head.

"Nice, Alice," Rosalie said. Alice shrugged. "So are you coming?" she asked, turning her attention back to me."

"I guess so," I said.

"You guess?"

"Well, I don't really want to spend an evening in your house, with your parents, without them knowing about us. It seems shady."

"I'm not having this argument with you again," she said, her tone final, her jaw set.

"Fine," I said. I didn't really have the energy for another round of this shit, anyway. "I'll see you on Thursday."

"Fine," she said.

Was it just me, or was our relationship suddenly under a _lot_ more strain than it had been? And it hadn't exactly been easy to begin with.

---

**RPOV**

Holidays at the Hale house are way more stressful than they ever should be. By noon on Christmas Eve I was ready to flee the damned place. On top of that, it had been almost a week since my parents had come back into town and I had been able to see Emmett for more than an hour at a time.

Those hours were mostly spent arguing about telling my parents about Royce. He just couldn't get why I didn't want to do it.

Think about it this way: my parents are in town maybe one week out of every two months. Why would I start a lot of shit with them when they're not even around enough for it to matter? I don't want to spend that week fighting with them. It's just unnecessary.

I didn't want to spend this time fighting with Emmett, either, don't get me wrong. I hated fighting with him, especially over something so stupid. And I knew it was making me impossible to live with. Even Jasper's started avoiding me, and he's the most practiced at dealing with my moods.

Add to that the incredible amount of frustration that goes with a sudden stop in sex with Emmett, and I was not at all pleasant.

Out of pity for the poor people who had to deal with me in this mood, I spent the day in the garage until Mom yelled for the third time for me to get cleaned up and dressed for the party. I wasn't looking forward to this. It was always a ton of people that I didn't actually know, people that I didn't care about from the town, and my parent's "connections".

I heard the doorbell ring at four, way too early for the party, and went to the hall railing that overlooked the living room, peering down to see who it was.

Emmett, sitting in the living room, talking to Jasper, as casual as could be.

In a suit.

Dear fucking God, that was it. That was the breaking point. At some point this evening, I was going to get him alone, and I was going to have him. Hard. Wherever we happened to be.

I went back to my room, wanting to finish getting dressed quickly. As an afterthought, I took a condom from my dresser and set about finding _somewhere _to hide it in this outfit. I had no pockets, and I _really_ didn't want a foil packet scratching at me in my bra, and it seemed just trashy to tuck it into my underwear.

I was debating this when I heard my door start to open and I quickly palmed it, hiding it from view in case it was one of my parents. Jeez, don't people knock anymore?

I relaxed when Emmett came through the door, shutting it quietly behind him. He had balls, coming into a teenage girl's room with that shit-eating grin while her parents were home. Speaking of which…

"Where do my parents think you are?" I asked. He shrugged.

"Jasper's showing me this new video game he got," he said.

"Jasper doesn't play video games."

"You don't say," he said, grinning. He stared at me for a second, his eyes travelling over me slowly. "That's what you're wearing tonight?" he finally asked. I looked down, wondering what was wrong with the outfit.

"You don't like it?" I asked.

"You look beautiful," he said. "I'm just wondering how many guys I'm going to have to kill with you walking around like that."

I was speechless for a moment. It had been a few days since we had really talked without arguing, and now here he was, flirting with me?

He crossed the few feet of space between us, his hand coming up to wind in my hair, leaning down to kiss me.

I fucking _melted_. There was no other way to describe it. My body _melted _to mold to his, as my mind turned to mush and the only thing that mattered was his mouth on mine, and his hands moving along my back, sending shudders through my spine.

My own hands moved to his waist, moving around to the small of his back, which I had learned was a surprisingly sensitive spot for him, and that was when I was reminded of the foil packet in my hand.

"Rosalie!" my mom shouted from downstairs and I ripped my lips away from Emmett's. "Come help me set up to food!"

"Be there in a second!" I yelled back before pressing my lips to his again, slipping my hands into his back pockets, squeezing his ass teasingly for a second, leaving the packet there. Problem solved.

I pulled away again reluctantly, throwing him a smile and moving past him to go downstairs, leaving him standing there in a daze.

I love that I have that power over him.

---

**EPOV**

Twenty minutes into the party, and I was in full-out predator mode, my eyes following Rosalie's every move. I had to have her.

The problem was, ever since her parents came back into town, we've barely been able to get two minutes to ourselves.

Which wouldn't be an issue if she'd just _tell them_.

That was definitely not in the cards, though. Rosalie hadn't budged on that at all. And I was done fighting about it. I just couldn't do it anymore.

"Enjoying yourself?" Jasper's voice broke into my thoughts.

"Oh yeah, this is _awesome_," I said dryly. He nodded.

"Yeah. I actually kind of wonder if anyone enjoys these parties, or if they're all just keeping up appearances, like us," he said. "Anyway, no offense, but to my parents, you're one of the faceless masses. You won't offend anyone if you duck out early."

I was pretty tempted by that, actually. Maybe I'll be able to get Rosalie to skip out early as well.

I looked around, wrinkling my brow when I realized that I couldn't find her. I saw her parents, talking to my mom and a man that I had come to recognize as Edward's dad, Dr. Cullen. Edward himself was with Bella and Alice on the other side of the room. Numerous other faces – including Jessica's, unfortunately – jumped out at me as people that I recognized from around town, but no Rosalie.

I went off in search of her, trying to look casual as I did a lap around to living room before heading towards the foyer.

I was wondering past the hall closet when I was suddenly pulled into it, the door shutting behind me, drowning me in darkness.

What the hell?

And then her lips were on mine, her hands cupping my face, and I pulled her to me. Rosalie. That explained it.

I groaned when her hands moved up to tug at my hair as she ground herself against me slightly, stifling the sound against her mouth, trying not to attract attention to the now-occupied closet. There was no doubt in my mind where this was going. It had been building up all day, since we had been in her room. But still…

"Fuck, Rose, you want to do this _here_? Your entire family and half of the fucking town are out there," I reminded her in a whisper, but despite my words, I found my hands drifting up over her shapely thighs, lingering for a second at the top of her stockings, following the strap of her garter belt before wrapping around to grip her fucking amazing ass, pulling her impossibly closer to me.

"I know," she muttered, and I nearly lost it right then. Fuck, she was getting off on the fact that we could get caught.

"You're going to have to be quiet," I told her, noticing that my voice had taken on that fucking raspy edge that she always dragged out of me. She shivered as I brought one hand around to press against her lace-covered crotch, feeling the palm of my hand dampen as she rubbed herself against me. Jesus fucking Christ, I _loved_ the way she went after her own pleasure. "And we're going to have to be quick," I added regretfully.

"Now, Emmett," she growled. I held back a groan and pulled the crotch of her panties aside to let my fingers graze over her, sliding through her folds for a second before plunging two fingers into her, covering her mouth quickly with my other hand as she let out a loud gasp.

"Quiet, babe, or we'll have to stop," I rasped into her ear, thrusting my fingers inside of her, focusing on the words to stop myself from moaning at the sensation. "Although," I added as a thought – a very pleasant one, at that – occurred to me, "maybe I should stop."

"No," she pleaded quietly from behind my hand and I grinned, bringing my thumb to her clit and rubbing as my fingers continued moving in her.

"Do you have any idea how much I'd enjoy going back out there, making small talk with your parents, knowing that all the while, all their daughter wants is for me to fuck her hard?" I hissed and she groaned loudly, making me press my hand harder against her mouth to muffle the sound. "Quiet, babe."

She was pushing her hips against my hand now, writhing between me and the wall. Fuck, as nice as that thought _had_ been, I knew I couldn't really do it. I had to have her.

Not stopping my finger's ministrations, I finally moved my other hand from her mouth and reached up, finding the bar across the top of the closet. Metal. Sturdy. It ran all the way into the fucking walls and I thanked whatever god may be witnessing this for old houses. I pulled my fingers out of her, bringing my hands to her hips and turned her around to face the back wall of the closet, guiding her to raise her arms.

"Grab the fucking bar," I growled, smiling as she obeyed. Fuck, as much as I loved making love to her slowly, this was so fucking hot. I returned my hands to her hips and guided her to arch her back, her amazing ass pushed out towards me, and used my foot to prompt her to spread hers apart. I pushed the skirt of her dress up to her hips, tugging gently on her panties to test the material. Thin. Delicate. _Perfect_. I twisted my fingers through them near the seam and tugged, feeling the fabric split with a sharp ripping sound as she gasped in surprise. I grinned and took in the shadowed sight in front of me – my girl spread for me, in her fucking thigh-high stockings and fucking garter belt, and those fucking heels. It was too dark, and I could barely see.

"We're doing this again later, babe," I whispered in her ear and she shuddered. "I need to really see this."

"Emmett," she whined quietly, pushing herself back against me, not removing her hands from the bar over her head. _Good girl_. I unzipped my pants and then it hit me.

_I... do not have... a fucking condom._

I let loose a string of curses that would make a sailor blush when I realized this.

"Babe," I started and she shook her head.

"Your back pocket," she muttered. What? "Check your fucking back pocket, Emmett," she clarified, sounding annoyed at the delay. I reached into my pocket, like she said, and my fingers closed around a familiar foil packet.

How?

I remembered her hugging me earlier, her hands drifting down to slide into my back pockets.

_Fuck_. She had fucking _planned _this. I ripped the wrapper open as she pushed back against me and jerked my pants down, quickly rolling the condom on and pressing myself against her, pulling her hips back further to meet mine and groaning quietly as my dick immediately slid into her folds, causing her to groan in relief at the contact, grinding against me.

_Fuck, inside her, now!_

I held her hips still as I thrust in hard. We didn't have much more time before someone was bound to notice us missing. I needed to make it fast, but good. Fast wouldn't be a problem. I was close to coming from the risk factor alone. Making it good for her, in the short time, that was the challenge. She groaned as I bottomed out inside of her and my hand snapped back up to her mouth, blocking further sounds as I held still, listening for anything that would alert me to someone coming to investigate.

After a few moments passed and nothing happened, I thrust hard into her again as I leaned forward to whisper harshly in her ear.

"Quiet, babe. One more sound and I'll stop," I told her before moving my hand from her mouth to grip her hip again, holding her still as I started thrusting deeply. She made no sound other than her heavy breathing, pushing back to meet each one of my thrusts. She turned her head and pressed her mouth against her raised arm, trying to block her cries.

A few more minutes of this and I felt myself getting close. This position made her so much tighter, and watching her try to hold herself back was taking its toll on me. I fucking loved seeing what I did to her. I needed her to come before I did, but that window was rapidly closing.

I moved one hand down to stroke her clit, smirking as I felt her starting to tighten around me and heard her muffled whimper against her arm. Let her think I hadn't heard it. There was no way I could stop now, anyway.

I barely managed to hang on long enough. No sooner did her walls start milking me, her breathing quickening and a small groan escaping her throat, than I exploded inside of her, shaking with the force of my orgasm.

Her hands slipped from the bar as her knees buckled and I tightened my hold around her waist, keeping her standing until her tremors passed. I reluctantly pulled out of her, smoothing her skirt back down over her bare ass, grinning as I remembered that she couldn't wear her panties any longer. I fucking loved the idea of her being bare under that skirt, with no one but us suspecting a thing.

She turned, wrapping her arms around my neck and pressing her lips to mine softly. Damn, a hard fuck and then soft kisses. The contrast was fucking mind-blowing in the best of ways.

"Thank you," she muttered against my lips and I nearly groaned because shit, she was thanking me for fucking her.

Once we had straightened ourselves up, we snuck out of the closet. Luckily no one was in the entryway.

I almost wished that someone had been, though, as we walked into the living room and my eyes fell on _him_. I would have gotten caught ten times over if it would erase _his _presence from the room. And then Mr. Hale was introducing me and asking Rosalie why she had kept _him_ waiting for so long and I was feigning a polite smile as I shook that fucker's hand with the one that I had just used to finger fuck the girl that he had been too damned stupid to treat right.

---

**AN**: Again, sorry that this chapter took so long. Seriously. I almost feel like this chapter was 6,000 words of NOTHING and smut. But I promise it's not. Everything at the beginning will be important later. Especially the next chapter. Speaking of which, preview of the next chapter to all reviewers! It's a _really_ good preview, too, I promise! :D

The thing about blondes looking terrible in gold – this is not to offend anyone. It's just my opinion, and most people have agreed with me when I've mentioned it. Also, I'm blonde, so I kind of have first-hand experience with it.

The ring that Emmett gave Rosalie is linked right down there /points. _Technically_ it has the translation inscribed on the inside, but we're going to pretend that it doesn't. XD You're welcome to look up the meaning, or squint at your computer screen for awhile trying to read it, but I feel like you'll get the full impact better if you refrain from doing that until Rosalie finds out what it means.

http: // www . crystalrealm . com / VB _ ST135R _ SS . jpg

Take out the spaces, of course! :D

**saber** – Thank you for your review. Please don't think that I just ignored it. Your email address didn't show up in the review. You're welcome to email me and I will send you Emmett's payback that way. :D

If I missed anyone in sending out the smuttake last chapter _please contact me_. I will send it to you. I didn't mean to miss anyone, and I don't _think_ I did, but just in case, kick my ass into gear!

Okay, so, having said _all_ of that, I look forward to hearing from you! I went through a lot of hell, what with my file getting corrupted and my computer crashing... Let's make it worth my time, shall we?

/bribes reviewers with caffeine, nicotine, and fuel. What else do you need in life? I know that's all I need.


	15. Round Fifteen

**Not Without A Fight  
**Annaleise Marie

**Round Fifteen**

**AN**: Sorry this has taken so long, especially after that cruel preview! I know, I suck, but it's very tedious to rewrite things, and to top that off, my real life has gone crazy since last Christmas. Sigh. Anyway, it's here now, and that's what's important, right?

Thank you guys so much for the amazing response to the last chapter! I'm constantly blown away by you guys.

Now, this chapter is upwards of 6,000 words. Pretty long. Get comfy. :D

**/**

**RPOV**

Oh no. Oh no. Oh no oh no oh no oh no. _Shit_. Goddammit _no_.

I couldn't even form a truly coherent thought as Emmett shook Royce's hand, both of their jaws set rigidly. My dad was asking me where I had been, why I had kept Royce waiting. Fuck, I shouldn't have put off telling my parents about this. I felt trapped. And I was. I couldn't create a scene _here_, with all of these people. That just wasn't accepted in the Hale household. But looking between the two of them, who were standing there nodding politely as my father went on with his introductions, I couldn't imagine leaving _Emmett_ to go off with _Royce_, just for the sake of appearances.

What do I do?

I should have listened to him. I should have told them sooner. He shouldn't have to be standing here as _Royce _was being introduced as my boyfriend.

"Excuse me," I finally made myself say, forcing my voice to remain steady. "I'm just going to go to the bathroom."

I hurried away before anyone could answer, thanking God that there was no one in the bathroom already, locking the door behind me and sliding down it to the floor. God, what was I going to do?

**/**

**EPOV**

Royce. Royce Motherfucking King. For the last couple of months, all I could think about – when I wasn't otherwise occupied with Rosalie – was when I would meet him face-to-face, and the quick and severe punishment that I would dole out to him.

Now, I couldn't seem to force myself to function past glaring at him, and making myself nod at every few sentence that came out of Mr. Hale's mouth. Up close, Royce wasn't really that good-looking, or even that intimidating. I had built up his image in my mind to that of a large playground bully, but that wasn't the case in reality.

Royce King had a weak chin, and had – probably purposefully – developed a rather obvious underbite, as though to hide it. He was a head shorter than me, and slumped a bit. All in all, he reminded me of a slightly more human Gollum.

But I could feel a good deal of strength when he shook my hand. He was stronger than he looked.

"Rosalie and Royce have been together for… how long, son?" Mr. Hale continued, apparently not noticing the hostility wafting around him. _Son_. I see. Royce was pretty much considered part of the family.

"A year next March, sir," Royce said, smirking.

_A year. A FUCKING YEAR. For a fucking year, he's been…_

I could feel anger bubbling under my skin. I needed to get out. I couldn't make a scene here. Not now.

"If you'll excuse me, Mr. Hale, I'm not feeling well. I think I'll head home for the night. Thank you for inviting me," I said, trying to keep my tone light. I didn't wait for a reply, though, and turned towards the party, figuring I should let my mom know I was leaving early.

She seemed a little occupied, though, perched on one of the couch cushions, her head thrown back as she laughed – what I recognized as her "public laugh" – at something the apparently endlessly-funny Dr. Cullen was saying, her hand rested on his knee. I caught Edward's eye, a few feet away from them, and his gaze quite plainly said, "What the hell is going on?"

You know, if Edward Cullen said such things as "hell".

I shook my head and opted to leave without talking to her – she was clearly too busy – not wanting to prolong my stay in the house. We just lived next door, after all.

"Rosalie's in your room," I heard a girl whisper quietly and looked around quickly, finally spotting Alice's retreating back, headed for Jasper, moving easily as though nothing had transpired. But it had been her voice. I'm sure of it.

I hurried for the door, eager to talk to her, and make sure she was alright. She had fled pretty quickly when Royce arrived.

She was there, sitting cross-legged on my bed. I had to forcibly focus on something else – anything else – than the fact that she still wasn't wearing underwear, as far as I knew. I focused instead on the small-ish box in front of her, wrapped in silver paper with a matching silver bow. It was one of the startlingly uniform presents that had been piled under the Hale's Christmas tree. I had assumed they were all just for show. They reeked too much of Martha Stewart to be real.

I guess some people really do that shit.

"So," I started, watching her run her finger deliberately over the sheer ribbon, "that was…"

"Awkward?" she supplied. "Horrible? Awful? Unnecessary? Terr—"

"Yeah," I broke in, afraid that she would keep going on forever if I didn't.

"Yeah," she said. There was silence for a moment before she cleared her throat and pushed the silver package forward. "I got this for you," she said off-handedly. I smiled, sitting down opposite her on the bed and picking up the package. I wasn't sure what to do. It seemed a shame to open it after all the effort it must have taken to wrap it. Hell, someone had hidden the fucking tape. Who does that?

I ran my finger up one crease in the wrapping, carefully opening it and pulling out the gift, careful not to disturb the paper too much. I heard Rosalie stifle a laugh.

"You're not going to hurt it, you know? It's meant to be torn up," she said matter-of-factly.

"Had to be hard to wrap it this nicely, though," I said, and it seemed stupid even to me once I said it.

"Maybe. I've never really talked to the woman at the mall about it," she said, raising an eyebrow. Of course. Professional wrapping by someone who did it eighty thousand times a day. No big deal.

I pulled the object the rest of the way out, snagging and ripping the paper in the process.

It was a book. Hardcover, with a simple black-and-white cover, illustrated with what looked like Pacman. _The Missing Piece, by Shel Silverstein_, the cover announced. I remembered the title, faintly, in some dark corner of my mind. My dad had read it to me once when I was little. I doubted that Rosalie knew that, but it still meant a lot.

"It's lame, I know," she muttered, looking at the book instead of me. I smiled.

"It's great," I said honestly. "I got something for you too," I added, suddenly remembering the small box in my desk drawer. I hopped off of the bed to retrieve it. I handed it to her, feeling that there should be more ceremony in this moment, but well, that couldn't be helped.

She took the box from me and stared at it, biting her lip. I was suddenly embarrassed about the clumsy wrapping job, but hell, _you_ try wrapping a box that small with these hands. I should've thought about the wrapping kiosk in the mall. Should've, could've, didn't.

"Aren't you going to open it?" I asked. She slowly raised her eyes.

"You got me something great, didn't you," she accused.

"Maybe," I said, taking a seat on the bed once more. "I won't know for sure until you open it."

"You did. You got me something great, and I couldn't think of anything but 'The Missing Piece'," she sighed. I couldn't decide whether I should laugh at that or not. She tore off the paper to reveal the simple black box, and got that look that all girls probably get when they realize they're being given jewelry, although it was quickly hidden as she shot a look of suspicion at me before cracking open the box.

"It's a poesy ring," I said, leaning back against the headboard and folding my hands behind my head as she took it out of the box, staring at it as it caught the dim light of my bedside lamp. "Kind of like a promise ring, I guess."

"What's it say?" she asked, rotating it between her fingers and squinting at the words. I couldn't decide if I really wanted to tell her. On the one hand, she had given me that book, which I guess could be like the literary equivalent of "you complete me", but at the same time, I wasn't sure that I was ready for her to know exactly how I felt. Her gift was a lot more cryptic than mine, and I could possibly be taking it the wrong way.

"That's the thing," I said softly and her eyes flicked up to mine as she raised an eyebrow questioningly. "I want you to promise me that you won't try to find out what it says. At least, not yet."

"Why?" she asked, slipping the ring onto her finger. She picked the left one.

"Just promise me," I insisted. She seemed to debate it for a moment before nodding.

"Don't promise rings usually come in a set?" she asked. I nodded. "Did this one?"

I removed my right hand from behind my head and held it up to show her the matching ring. She smiled and nodded appreciatively.

"Looks good."

"Oh yeah, I feel really manly," I laughed. "Charles Atlas, watch out."

Rosalie laughed before crawling up the bed to me, straddling my thighs and bracing her hands on my shoulders to keep her balance before leaning in to kiss me.

/

The next morning we woke up late. The sun was already high in the sky, sending light bounding off of the snow outside straight into our fucking eyes.

Fuck you, nature. Just… fuck you.

I clapped my hand over my eyes for a minute, trying to wake up fully. Beside me, I felt Rosalie stir.

"Coffee," she groaned. I laughed and sat up.

"Let's go." I wasn't going to argue with coffee. Actually, next to a cigarette, it sounded like the most wonderful thing in the world at the moment.

Rosalie followed me down the stairs and hoisted herself up onto the kitchen counter. In that skirt, I was reminded of Thanksgiving, and _that _skirt, and it's really too fucking early in the morning for this.

But now Rosalie's eyes were locked over my shoulder, wide and surprised, and someone cleared their throat behind me.

_Crap_. Mom. She had been working so often I completely forgot she would be here. Rosalie slid down off of the counter, her eyes now downcast as she smoothed her hair, suddenly seeming very self-concious.

"I'm just going to... go..." she said quietly, slipping past me and hurrying from the kitchen. After a moment the front door opened and closed and Mom finally seemed to find her words. Or maybe she had just been waiting for Rosalie to leave.

"Emmett Dale McCarty," she started slowly. Oh fuck, the full name. The full name _never _meant anything good. "What... You... I just don't even know how to start with this."

I gave her a moment. I know my mom and she would eventually find a good starting point without my help.

"She has a boyfriend," she finally said. Well. Okay. Didn't expect _that_ to be the starting point, but okay.

"That's..." I paused, trying to find the right way to explain it. "It's complicated, Mom." Even I could hear how unimpressive of an answer that was.

"Either she has a boyfriend or she doesn't, Emmett! How complicated could that possibly be?" she yelled, staring at me disbelievingly. I couldn't really blame her. From the outside, this looked pretty damned bad and hell, I was raised by a woman. She knew that I knew better than that. I wasn't supposed to have the 'normal' guy mentality.

And I _didn't_. But I couldn't figure out how to explain that without dragging out the whole torrid story.

"She's not really with him," I said. "She just doesn't want to tell her parents that they broke up because they're the ones who want her to date him and... that's where it starts getting complicated." There. Okay. Simple, vague, but still an explanation. Or so I thought. But Mom just gave me this almost pitying look.

"Oh, come on, you don't really believe that, do you?" she asked.

"Wait, what?" I asked, wondering just how this turn in the conversation had come about.

"You know, guys aren't the only ones who lie when they cheat on someone," she said and it clicked. She was saying that Rosalie was lying to me. Dear God, was I going to have to drag out the whole story?

"There's more to it than that," I said. "It's not my place to talk about it, but I know that's not how it is."

"And then to have her _here_," Mom continued, thankfully moving on to the next subject. "You're too young to be having girls spending the night in your room, _especially_ without me knowing about it."

"I'm eighteen," I pointed out and she shook her head.

"Barely, Emmett. And you're still in high school, and still living at home. Until that changes, you're not an adult who can make these decisions!"

"What _decisions_? You don't even know that we're doing anything!" I objected. Which, okay, yeah, we were, but she didn't know that and hell, I was being safe. It's not like I was a thirteen year old who was incapable of handling my shit.

"You expect me to believe that two teenagers spent the night together, and absolutely nothing happened?" she asked skeptically. Why was that so hard to believe? Yes, it wasn't true about last night specifically, but Rosalie had spent the night _many _times before without us doing anything.

"Yes," I answered, biting the rest of my thoughts back. They wouldn't help my case.

"Well, I'm sorry, but that's not going to happen," she said. "God, Emmett, how could you be so irresponsible?"

"I'm not being irresponsible!"

"You're breaking my rules, sneaking around, messing with a girl who – no matter what the circumstances – has a boyfriend. How is that responsible?"

"I haven't done anything wrong!" How could I make her understand that. Okay, yes, technically I had broken some rules, but what harm had been caused? And her conclusions were wrong! I felt like her wrongful accusations should balance out the correct ones.

Unfortunately that's not how it works.

"Emmett!" she said, her voice rising in volume. "You're just not getting it!"

"What's going—" I spun around as Mom's head snapped to the doorway to see a blonde man entering the kitchen, fixing his tie. Dress clothes or no, Dr. Cullen looked like he had woken up here. He stopped short when he saw me.

"I'm not getting it?" I asked, turning back to mom. "At least I get the incredible hypocrisy of this entire fucking situation!"

"Watch your mouth!"

"Are you serious right now?" I demanded. I knew that what I was saying was way out of line, on some distant level of my mind, but I couldn't stop it. It just kept coming, like verbal diarrhea. "Really? You're standing there, lecturing me about having a girl in my room, and then Dr. Cullen walks into our kitchen like he fucking lives here?"

"I'm an adult, Emmett. I don't have to justify myself to my teenage son! If I want someone to stay the night like that, I can do it!"

"No! As long as I'm still cleaning up after you as you mourn my father, you _don't_ get to do things like this!" I shouted and I could practically see the words leaving my mouth. I wanted to reach out and grab them, to stuff them back in and undo what I had just said, but it was too late. I was pretty sure that, judging by her expression, they had just slapped her across the face. She stared at me for a minute, her mouth opening and closing as she tried to find something to say. Dr. Cullen shifted uncomfortably in the doorway. "Mom—" I started.

"Get out," she said, casting her eyes down to the counter.

"Mom—"

"Just... go somewhere for a while. I don't want to see you right now," she said, her lips drawn in a tight line. I nodded slowly. I wanted to apologize, to tell her that I hadn't meant it, that it had come out wrong. But maybe it would be best to let everything settle first. You know, let the dust clear before running in to make sense of the rubble.

I left the kitchen, brushing past Dr. Cullen and grabbing my coat and keys and leaving the house. I couldn't think of anywhere to go once I had started the Jeep. There just wasn't anywhere to go around here.

I threw it into reverse, figuring that if all else failed, I could just drive around aimlessly for a few hours.

At that moment, the Hale's door flew open and Rosalie came hurtling out, taking the steps in one long bound and practically flying towards the Jeep. Or rather, in front of the Jeep. I slammed on the brakes, managing to stop it just shy of hitting her because hell, I hadn't expected her to jump in front of the fucking car. God, did she have a death wish or something?

She kept running until she got to the passenger's door and threw it open, climbing in and slamming the door before looking at me expectantly.

"Well?" she asked after a moment of me just looking at her, waiting for an explanation as to what had caused this particular incident of Forks' special brand of batshit crazy. "Go!"

"Where?"

"I don't care, just go!" she commanded. Well, Rosalie says jump...

I hit the accelerator, rushing down the street and glancing from the road to her and back again, waiting for her to say something.

"Where are we going?" she asked. I snorted a laugh.

"I don't know. You're the one who told me to drive," I pointed out.

"You were already leaving! I figured you were going somewhere!" she said. Okay. Time to calm down a little.

"I'm just driving," I said as I merged onto the highway. "No real plans. So do you want to tell me what happened?"

"I told my parents about Royce," she said. And that was it. No more information offered. God, this was going to be like pulling teeth. Clearly it hadn't gone well.

"And?" I prompted her. She sighed.

"Apparently I'm a liar," she said.

"Fuck," I cursed. "They said that?"

"Well, Dad said that. Mom went into the kitchen and started making pudding," she mumbled.

"Why?"

"Because that's how the Hale household operates," she said bitterly. "We fix things, and if they can't be fixed, we hide them. If they can't be hid we find another way to cover them up. If there's just no way to cover them up, we just ignore them and pretend they don't exist. And I guess the best way to do that is to make pudding." She was quiet for a second before laughing. "And it follows this sick sort of order. Jasper, he fixes things. If he can't do it, then I hide them. If that doesn't work, the parents come back into town and Dad just covers them up, explains them away, and Mom makes fucking pudding like nothing's happening anyway. It's the stupidest fucking thing..."

"Sounds like it," I said. "But why didn't they believe you?"

"Because who waits three months to tell someone that they were raped?" she asked wryly.

"Someone who's scared they're going to be called a liar?" I asked. She laughed; an unnerving, desperate type of laugh. The kind of laugh that someone comes up with when they just don't know what else to do.

"They're going to make me apologize to him," she said. "For 'defaming his character'. I'm supposed to go over there tonight."

"You told them that he beat and raped you, so they want you to go _to his house_ and apologize to _him_..." I said slowly, trying the words out for myself to see if they were more understandable that way. "In what world does that make sense?"

"The Hale one," she said. She chewed her bottom lip for a moment, glancing at me. "And there's more."

"What?" I asked, my stomach knotting. People usually saved the worst for last. If her having to apologize to that bastard wasn't the worst, what was?

"I'm not supposed to see you anymore," she said quietly.

Well. Merry Fucking Christmas.

**/**

**RPOV**

It was dark by the time we got back to Forks. I couldn't really tell you where we went. We didn't stop anywhere to make any one place stick in my mind. We didn't talk. It felt like there was nothing left to say. We both knew that me not seeing Emmett would only last until my parents went out of town again, which was scheduled to happen shortly after the New Year. That wasn't what was weighing on my mind, or his, I think.

What we had been thinking about was about to become a reality. As I kissed him goodbye and left the Jeep, I knew what we were both thinking about: The fact that even now, I was walking to my car, fishing my keys out of my pocket, preparing to go to see Royce, and trying to not vomit.

I knew I would be seeing him alone. It was a Saturday night. His parents were almost always in Seattle for some sort of event over the weekends. I felt like I was walking right into the lion's den. Hell, it felt like more than that; if I was walking into the lion's den, I was doing it with a layer of raw meat covering every inch of my body.

The drive to his house, just outside of La Push, was almost half an hour, but it felt like five minutes. I didn't have time to prepare for this. Even the hours spent thinking about it in the Jeep seemed like nothing towards that end. Before I knew it, I was sitting in the driveway, trying to force myself out of the car.

I wished, in that moment, that I was a smoker. At least then I would have a reason to delay going to the door. I'd have to finish my cigarette first. Or a pack.

As it was, I couldn't think of a way out of this. If my parents found out that I hadn't apologized – and the very thought of doing that made me want to gag – they would just make me come back again. Or worse, they would orchestrate it into some sort of public apology at the next get-together.

It had shocked me at first that they didn't believe me – that they were so ready to call me a liar rather than thinking that Royce, a guy they only knew by his parents, might have actually _raped _me. But I guess it shouldn't have. It was easy to ignore things in their world when there was no evidence to the contrary...

_Evidence_.

That's it. _Evidence_.

I got out of my car, slamming the door hard for one last burst of bad-ass confidence and marching up to the door to ring the bell before I lost my nerve.

**/**

**EPOV**

Three hours after Rosalie left my car, I was already going crazy. It wasn't the short amount of time apart that was doing it – it was the thought of the eight days before her parents left again and I would be able to see her. It was the thought of the first night in over a month sleeping without her. It was about wearing this fucking girly-ass ring on my finger without seeing hers to remind me why I like it.

I had already done my homework for break, made dinner, hunted down the credit card taped to the bottom of the sixth vertical blind to rent the carpet shampooer tomorrow so that I could clean all of the carpets in the house – the first of many punishments to come, I'm sure – and taken a shower.

What I saw when I came out of my bathroom made me feel sure that I was going crazy.

Rosalie was sitting on my bed, calm as could be, her hair falling in waves around her face as she looked down at the book that was open in her hands.

"Rose?" I asked quietly. She made a small humming sound in acknowledgment. This was too surreal. She had just told me that morning that she wouldn't be able to see me when her parents were in town, and now she was sitting here like nothing was going on, just reading while she waited for me to get out of the shower, like this was any other night. And the calmness was unnerving as well. Hadn't she just been to see Royce?

What had happened?

"Did you go see Royce?" I asked.

"Mm-hmm," she said, still not looking up from the book.

"And how'd it go?" God, were we playing twenty questions now or something?

"I'd say it went pretty well," she said, closing the book and raising her head to look at me. There was a split second where I saw her face and then it was like an opaque red curtain had dropped in front of my eyes.

What. The fuck. Was _that_? What _was _that? _What_ was that?

No matter what inflection I gave it, I couldn't make the question process.

"What the fuck is that?" I heard myself asking. I blinked hard, trying to clear the red from my vision.

"Evidence," she said simply.

"Evidence?" I repeated, blinking again as my eyes slowly started to focus. I almost wished they hadn't. What I saw was horrifying. The entire left side of Rosalie's face was bruised, the worst of it at her cheekbone and brow. Her lip was split open and I saw, as she raised her hand to dab at it, that the wrist of her light blue sweater was now stained a dark crimson. Her ring, the ring that marked her as _mine_, caught the light, flashing at me.

That bastard hit _my_ girl. He made her bleed. And she was just sitting there, looking at me like this was nothing. How could she just act like this was...

Oh please, dear God, please let this be nothing.

"Rosalie," I started slowly, forcing myself to stay calm. "Did he do anything else?"

"Nope," she said simply, dabbing at her lip again.

"He just hit you?" I asked.

"Well, he just _successfully _hit me," she said thoughtfully. "But you want to know something interesting? When you decide not to fight one thing, you have a _lot_ more time to focus on fighting something else."

"What?"

"Let's just say that Royce might not be able to reproduce. Ever," she said, grinning. I was torn between wanting to hunt Royce down and beat his face in beyond recognition, wanting to laugh, and wanting to high-five my girlfriend because that shit was _priceless_.

"Evidence?" I asked instead, realizing that she hadn't explained earlier. She shrugged.

"They didn't believe me three months after the fact," she said. "So maybe they'll believe it now."

"You let him beat you for _that_?" I asked. She scoffed.

"I've taken worse from him before, and gotten nothing in return. This way, at least I won't be called a liar," she said. I just couldn't wrap my mind around this. This was how it had been before I moved here?

"How did no one notice this before?" I asked. "No one wondered why half of your face was black and blue?"

"I used to protect my face," she said, sighing. "And when I couldn't, I'd make something up. Look, I really don't want to go into all of that. I just wanted to let you know it happened, so that you didn't see it and go barreling down to La Push or something. The next time I see you, I don't want it to be through plate glass."

"I may still go down there, you know," I said, sitting down beside her.

"In that case, have you ever seen the video for that song, 'Feeling This'?" she asked, grinning for a second before wincing and bringing her sleeve back to her mouth as the skin split open again. I sighed and went to the bathroom to get a wet washcloth before coming back and holding it to her mouth gently, pulling it away after a moment to see only a small amount of blood on the cloth before pressing it back. At least it wasn't bleeding heavily, I guess.

"Fuck, he did a number on you," I said quietly, tracing the pads of my fingers over her bruised brow and cheek.

"The face is actually the least painful," she said. "I mean, it hurts, but at least now it won't hurt every time I try to take a step, or sit down, or lift something..."

"No, now it'll just literally hurt you to smile," I teased. She rolled her eyes. I wondered if she could see through the teasing to the fact that I was horrified by her casual talk of where it hurts more to get beat. "Are you staying tonight?"

"I shouldn't. If I get caught coming back in the morning, my parents will probably decide you did this," she said. "Anything to excuse Royce," she added bitterly.

"You should go bursting through the door screaming while it's still fresh," I advised.

"Nah. I thought I'd go for the silent suffering approach. Lay on the guilt a little," she mused.

"Good plan," I said, taking the washcloth from her mouth and kissing her softly, careful of her injuries.

Regardless of what had happened – whether she had baited it, or allowed it to happen, or hell, physically grabbed his hand and hit herself with it – I was going to kill Royce for this. Fuck the rules. The mat was now just a way to get us both in the same place at the same time.

Rosalie kissed me one last time before telling me goodnight and letting herself out of the house. I waited for her bedroom light to come on, to make sure nothing bad went down when she got home, before I finally went to bed.

It was actually really hard to sleep without her.

**/**

**AN**: Again, sorry that this chapter took so long. Seriously.

Unfortunately, as much as I hate to tell you guys this, I feel like it's only fair to let you know some of the things that delayed this chapter, and may potentially delay the next one (although nowhere near as long). Last April, I joined the US Army. I was sent home part of the way through Basic, and discharged honourably, but according to my First Sergeant, I'm still "assimilating to civilian life", so I'm going in about twenty directions at once. Also, in May, my brother shot himself. He's alive, but recovering slowly, and some of his surgeries are still pretty extreme, so that holds things up every now and then. Add to that my rush studying for my national CPhT exam, and I've got a lot going on. Please bear with me until this all calms down?

Anyway, as far as notes on this chapter go, the music video referenced early in the chapter is "Feeling This" by Blink-182. It took place in a military-style juvenile detention center, and was basically about the kids overthrowing the guards and shit. But the part Rosalie is talking about is the couple that was essentially fucking through a plate glass window. It's actually a pretty amusing video. You should YouTube it. :D

There is so much I would love to say to all of you, but well… I really don't think any of you want a three-page AN. Everyone thank **Cydney94 **and **Nachos4Children **for finally succeeding in pulling my head out of my ass long enough to get back to work on this!

Reviewers get eternal love and the smuttake missing from this chapter – Christmas night, after the rings.

So much love to you all! Seriously!


	16. Round Sixteen

**Not Without A Fight  
**Annaleise Marie

**Round Sixteen**

**AN**: First off, thanks _so _much to all of my reviewers, especially those who wished me well, and of course those who wished my brother well. He's doing great, considering, and getting better all the time.

Now, I own a pair of ballistics-proof glasses, courtesy of the Army, but I do not own Twilight. That's Stephenie Meyer.

/

**RPOV**

"Rosalie," Jasper started slowly at breakfast the next morning.

"Hmm?" I asked, sipping my coffee and trying not to wince as the hot liquid hit my raw lip.

"What's with your face?" His tone suggested he already knew, and was merely confirming.

"Mom and Dad made me go apologize to Royce last night," I said. He nodded. My guess was he didn't really know what to say. I was glad he didn't, anyway, as Mom chose that moment to walk into the kitchen.

"Good morning," she said cheerfully, blowing past us and opening the fridge. "Rosalie, your father and I have to leave a little sooner than planned, so—" she turned to us as she closed the fridge with the hand that wasn't clutching the milk carton, and for a moment she froze. Maybe everything froze. Was I breathing?

It didn't really matter, I guess, because in the next moment the world unstuck and she let out a strangled sort of shriek. She clasped her hand to her mouth quickly to silence the sound, evidently forgetting about the milk as it crashed to the floor, the seal breaking and sending milk spattering over the hardwood floors and lower cabinet facings.

"Wow," Jasper said. Mom's eyes flickered to him.

"Jasper, could you go upstairs for a bit?" she asked, trying her best to keep her Emily Gilmore in-control persona firmly in place.

"I'm eating," he answered simply. "Apple Jacks. Luckily I got down here before we ran out of milk."

I don't know if Mom heard him or not. She didn't respond, either way. I thought for a moment she was just stunned, but then, without a single word, she turned and left the kitchen. Jasper raised an eyebrow at me. A moment later we heard the front door open and close.

"It's hard to bake without milk," I said, shrugging.

"She's in her bathrobe," he answered. I froze, my coffee mug halfway to my lips. I knew what that meant. Our mother wouldn't be caught dead in public in that state of undress. So where was she going?

We stood at the same time, rushing for the front window to verify that Mom's car was still in the driveway before surveying the yard. Jasper spotted her first, on the McCarty's porch. I barely had time to register this fact before the door was opening and Emmett's mom was welcoming her in, looking politely puzzled.

_Oh, good grief. _

/

**EPOV**

_Too early. Too early for yelling. So much yelling. So fucking shrill. What the fuck is going on?_

My eyes snapped open a few minutes later as I fully processed my own thoughts, and a few of the choice phrases floating up the stairs.

"How _dare_ you suggest such a thing?"

"Maybe if you weren't such an absent parent, you'd be able to see the problems right under your own roof!"

"_I'm _an absent parent? _I'm_ an absent parent?"

"_Never_ see you home, it's no wonder your son turned out the way he has!"

"I work at night to support Emmett and I'll have you know he's turned out just fine!"

I dragged myself out of bed, finding a pair of sweatpants and a tee shirt before going to inspect the source of the commotion.

"It's no wonder you move all the time! This probably isn't the first time this has happened!"

"Emmett wouldn't hurt anyone!"

"He hit my daughter!"

Oh now _that_ did it. I burst through my door, taking the stairs two at a time and skidding into the living room. My mother and Rosalie's mother were in a sort of face-off. Clearly they had both been sitting, judging by the mussed furniture and the mugs of tea on the coffee table, but now they were inches away from each other, faces twisted in fury. Mrs. Hale was a good head taller than my mom, but she was clearly having trouble standing her ground. My mom has this bizarre ability to grow when she gets angry.

"_You_!" Mrs. Hale hissed, her attention turning to me. I raised an eyebrow at her. "Don't give me that look, you know what you did!"

"I know what _happened_," I corrected her coldly. "But I had nothing to do with it."

"Liar," she hissed. "Everything was _fine_ before you moved here, you little—"

"Enough!" my mom interrupted, her eyes flaming. "I think it's time for you to leave, Lillian." There was a tense silence as Mrs. Hale attempted to stare my mom down, before she stomped past her toward the front door. Mom followed her, catching the door before it could hit the wall after Mrs. Hale flung it open. She smiled sweetly.

"Thanks for stopping by, Lillian," she said. For a moment Mrs. Hale looked like she wanted to spit nails, but then the door swung shut in her face. Mom sighed and shook her head, turning to walk back to the living room to gather up the mugs of tea before heading to the kitchen. I followed her dutifully.

She was silent as she rinsed the cups in the sink before loading them into the dishwasher. I took a seat at the kitchen table, waiting. Finally she sighed, turning towards me, leaning back against the counter, her arms crossing over her chest.

"Emmett," she started carefully and then paused, her eyes searching mine. "Did you hit Rosalie?"

Well, that was sudden and abrupt.

"What? No! How could you even think that?" I defended, my hand coming down hard on the kitchen table. Okay, that probably didn't help my case.

"What am I supposed to think?" she asked, looking tired. "Lillian Hale shows up at my door with the attitude that Rosalie's half-dead or something, and that you did it. You said you know what happened. What is it, if you really didn't do it?"

I bit my tongue, weighing the options as Mom looked at me expectantly. I could tell her everything, but I didn't think Rosalie wanted that. It was her story to tell, and she had kept it a secret for her own reasons. I could tell her the bare bones of it, and hope she believed me, but it would sound like a shoddy explanation at best.

She continued to look at me, her gaze unwavering, until finally I sighed.

"Royce King, you know, her ex-boyfriend—" Mom opened her mouth, I guess to reopen the previous day's argument, but I raised my hand to stop her. "Her parents made her go to apologize for something she told them last night, and he hit her. She has a split lip and most of her face is bruised."

Mom was silent, as though waiting for me to continue. I weighed my words carefully.

"The Hales don't want to believe that Royce is capable of that, and what Rose told them, so I guess since they know that she and I are together, I'm the go-to."

"What did she tell them?" Mom asked.

"Hmm?"

"What did Rosalie tell her parents that they wanted her to apologize for?" she clarified. I sighed again. I couldn't feel like I was somehow betraying Rose by telling her this.

"That Royce raped and beat her the whole time they were together, and that they've been broken up for months," I said, watching her eyes widen. Yup. Emmett Fucking McCarty, King of the Shock Value.

"_Emmett_!" she exclaimed. Wow she sounded upset. Definitely hadn't expected that. "What's wrong with you?"

"Me? I just told you, I didn't do anything!" I protested. She gaped at me.

"That's the problem! You knew this was going on and didn't tell anyone?" she demanded. Jeez, when she puts it like that, it kinda makes me sound bad.

"It was over by the time I moved here. As far as I know, last night was the first time Rose saw him since then, and it was her parents who threw her in there, _after _she told them what happened!" I said but Mom was still shaking her head. I just couldn't win.

"I don't know what's gotten into you lately," she said. "You don't seem to be making good decisions—"

"Let's not go there again, Mom, please?" I asked, rubbing my hands over my eyes hard to stave off the dull throbbing that was beginning to start there. "I had my reasons. I don't even really like that I had to tell you this now, but well, I didn't really have a choice. It was tell you, or have you think I may have hit a woman."

I stood up, pushing my chair back up to the table.

"You should get some sleep before work tonight," I said. "I have a carpet shampooer to rent." I started to head upstairs to change before heading out, but her voice stopped me.

"Emmett, honey," she said softly, her hand reaching out to rest on my arm. I half-turned back to her. "I'm sorry. For what happened yesterday. This place has thrown me for quite the loop. I'm sure you've been doing what you think is right."

It wasn't what I would have chosen for her to apologize for, but it was something. And really, my mom was the only person I had been able to count on since my father had died, even if she sometimes slipped up. I turned completely, leaning down to hug her.

"I'm sorry for what I said."

"No, you were right," she said softly. "I thought maybe I could start something… But I guess it's still not right, is it?" I was quiet, not sure what to say. She cleared her throat and looked away from me. "That's why, at the end of the school year, we're moving."

/

**RPOV**

Mom and Dad left again the next day, but not before we'd had a long "talk" about what happened. They never once acknowledged that I was telling the truth, and constantly made references to their beliefs that Emmett was responsible for all of this, but they had at least agreed that I probably shouldn't see Royce anymore.

The door had barely shut behind my parents as they departed than Alice had burst through the patio door, relief seeming to wash over her. She hadn't been over as much as normal, with the much stricter rules in place with our parents home. I raised an eyebrow at her.

"Hi, Rose!" she said cheerfully, turning her attention to me before double-taking violently. "Whoa!" was all she managed to force out.

"Yeah, Alice, I know," I sighed.

"Are you sure? Like, have you seen your face? Because you are way too calm to have seen it," she said, sounding genuinely concerned.

"I did it on purpose, Alice," I said. I expected her to look confused, or like she was questioning my mental health, but she just nodded.

"Did it work?" she asked, taking a seat at the kitchen island.

"Kind of. I'm finally free of Royce," I said and she smiled. "I think it's mainly to keep me from further tarnishing his reputation, and my parents think Emmett did it, so it's not all good, but well, it works I guess."

"Definitely. I mean, I hate that they're accusing Emmett of that, but anyone with half a brain would know that it's not true," she said, shaking her head and then looking at me apologetically. "I don't mean to call your parents stupid or anything."

"No, they're acting pretty stupid," I conceded. She smiled sheepishly. At that moment Jasper tromped into the kitchen, his wrestling bag slung over his shoulder.

"What're you doing?" I asked him.

"Today's the first practice since the holiday. Gotta get ready for the big match," he said.

"But I just got here," Alice whined.

"My two great loves, competing for my attention," Jasper said dramatically, feigning a pained look. "I'll make it up to you later, okay?" he asked, leaning down to kiss Alice.

"No can do," she said before quickly returning the kiss. "We're having a girl's night."

"We are?" I asked.

"Yes, we are," she said, giving me a pointed look. I shrugged.

"Okay then," I said and Jasper looked between the two of us questioningly for a moment.

"I'd stay and try to figure this out, but I'm running late," he said. "I'll see you later."

"So," I said once he was gone, looking questioningly at Alice, who just smiled back innocently. "Girl's night?"

"Oh that's right! I should call Bella!" she said, skipping off to the living room, pulling her phone from her back pocket and scrolling through the contacts.

/

**EPOV**

"Man, what are you _doing_?" I jumped as someone shouted at me and quickly turned off the carpet shampooer, spinning around to see Jasper standing by the stairs, looking horrified.

"Jeez, don't any of you ever knock?" I demanded, trying to calm my now-frazzled nerves.

"I did. I guess your need to compete with June Cleaver was affecting your hearing," he smirked. "Are you coming to practice or what?"

I groaned. I had completely forgotten about practice, with everything else that was going on.

"Yeah, hold on a second," I said, unplugging the shampooer and bounding up the stairs.

"Hurry up, Margaret, and don't forget your heels!" he called after me.

"Margaret?" I shouted back, searching for my bag.

"Margaret Anderson, the mother from _Father Knows Best_," he yelled. "Really, you should know your competition, Donna Reed!"

"Shut up," I grumbled, coming back down the stairs and grabbing my keys off of the hook by the door as I went. "Just for that, you can't ride with me. Better start running, Lassie."

"Lassie?"

"Just keeping with the fifties sitcom references."

/

"Let's go do something!" Jasper insisted after practice. We were hanging out in my living room. I had finally finished the carpets, much to Jasper and Edward's amusement.

"There's nothing to do around here, man," Edward said, flipping through the television channels.

"The girls are having their girl's night, so we should do something manly."

"Something manly?" I asked skeptically. "Like what?"

"I don't know… Spit, jump off something, fight a bear, drink to excess and burp loudly because they're not here," Jasper said, shrugging. I couldn't tell if he was serious or not. I mean, probably not about fighting a bear, but the rest of it. "I vote for drinking, personally. And pool. There's a place in La Push we could go to."

"We're underage," I reminded him. It wasn't that I had never drank before, but even I knew it usually had to be at parties and such.

"Trust me, it doesn't matter," he said confidently.

/

Edward cursed as the eight ball snapped into the corner pocket and Jasper smirked.

"I'm not playing anymore. I give up," he announced, sliding five dollars across the table to Jasper for the third time. "I'm losing too much money on it."

Jasper laughed and disappeared to the bar with his winnings, coming back with a pitcher of beer and joining me and Edward at the table. There was a long silence.

"Man, we suck," Jasper finally said, seeming amused.

"What?" Edward asked.

"We've been trained so well by our girls, we don't even know what we're supposed to talk about with the guys," he said. He had a fair point. "What did we talk about, back before we were whipped?"

"Sports?" I suggested.

"Movies," Edward added.

"Music," Jasper said. "And pussy. But since we actually have that now—" He was cut off as Edward let out a derisive sort of snort. Jasper turned to him, latching on to the opportunity. "What, don't tell me you and Bella aren't fucking?"

"Nope," Edward admitted. "Well, not yet, anyway."

"Haven't you two been together since like, the dawn of time?" Jasper asked. I laughed. He was right, from what I had seen Bella and Edward were a hundred-year-old couple trapped in seventeen-year-old bodies.

"Two years," Edward corrected him.

"Oh, my bad," Jasper said, raising his hands in mock-defeat. "What's the hold-up, then?"

"I'll have you know I'm a fucking gentleman, asshole," Edward informed him. Jasper let out a cough that sounded suspiciously like 'pussy', but motioned for him to continue. "I don't know, I guess we've been waiting for the right time. Or," he amended, rolling his eyes, "I've been waiting for the right time."

"Ah, Bella's getting impatient," Jasper said knowingly, taking a deep drink of his beer. Edward nodded.

"I don't see the problem," I said. "I mean, you said you love her, right?" Edward nodded. "So fuck her."

"Yeah, cause it was _so_ easy for you, Emmett," Jasper laughed.

"It wasn't that bad."

"Please, it was like pulling teeth."

"_Anyway_," I said pointedly, turning my attention back to Edward. "What's the problem? She loves you, right?" He nodded. "And you want to have sex with her?" He nodded again. "So man up and do it!" Edward muttered something that I couldn't hear over the music in the bar. "What?"

"I'm a virgin, okay?" he said, louder.

"No shit?" Jasper asked, sounding shocked. "But… _how?_ All I hear from the girls at school is 'ohhh my gawd, Edward is like, so hawt, I would so totally'—" he broke off suddenly, looking pained. "Sorry, I refuse to repeat some of that."

"Because I'm a fucking gentleman!" Edward repeated, looking almost amused by Jasper's shock.

"Okay, okay, so you're nervous. But I mean, it's not like it's hard to do it," I said. "I mean, you've made out with Bella before, at least, right?"

"Yeah," he said hesitantly.

"So, try it naked and just… see how it goes from there," I said, shrugging.

"That," Jasper said, "sounds _so_ awkward. _Hey, Bella, let's get naked and see where this leads_."

"Exactly," Edward agreed. "And I want it to be perfect for Bella."

"Well, I don't know what to say. I'm not exactly going to choreograph it for you," I said. Just the idea left a bad taste in my mouth.

"So what, you just… let it happen your first times?" Edward asked skeptically. "And it went well?"

Jasper and I both laughed.

"Of course it didn't go well! Are you kidding?" I said as Jasper shook his head, looking amused.

"My first time was with Jessica Stanley," Jasper started, nodding as Edward let out a disgusted noise. "Yeah, but hey, I was young, and stupid, and had yet to find Alice and was thus incomplete." He stared at me as though daring me to mock that. I was sorely tempted. "Anyway, I had _no _idea what I was doing. It should be simple, right? I mean, every teenage guy has jerked off before, and it _should _– and I hold to this to this day – it _should_ be that easy, just with another body instead of your hand. But _no_, girls have to get in the mood, and then you're fumbling around because frankly, girl's bodies are confusing as hell, and then it's hard to last long, no matter what you do."

He took a swig of his beer and looked at Edward, who was looking exceedingly distressed. I didn't have the heart to laugh at him, even if I thought Jasper's account was a bit extreme.

"But," Jasper continued, "it's something that must be done, and it only gets better from there. You need practice, like anything."

"Is it really that bad?" Edward asked me, almost pleading.

"Worse," I said gravely. I couldn't resist. It was too easy.

"Worse," he repeated dully.

"Oh yeah. I broke my nose my first time," I said gravely. This was entirely, one-hundred-percent true. And definitely worth exposing to see the look on Edward's face.

"How?" he asked.

"Yeah, I'm kinda curious about this one, too," Jasper said, looking almost awed.

"Well, we were on this trampoline, right," I started and Jasper burst out laughing. "I mean, it was only fitting. Katie Stewart put the _tramp _in _tramp_oline, after all. So anyway, we were on the trampoline and while I didn't have any of the trouble Jasper mentioned, we did knock heads pretty hard. Her forehead hit my nose and before I knew it, there was blood all over the place and she was freaking out and I wound up having to go to the ER so they could rebreak my nose so it would heal right, with my mom screaming about how did I manage _this_ one. Never got to finish, but it's a hell of a story, and the mood was ruined after that, anyway."

"What did you tell her?" Jasper asked between gasps of laughter. Edward looked rather ill.

"Katie wasn't really a girl who you called back; very hit it and quit it. So I didn't really feel the need to tell her anything," I said, shrugging.

"No, what did you tell your mom?" he asked, wiping a tear from his eye.

"Oh, I told her that I got hit on the trampoline. I wouldn't lie to my mother," I said, acting offended that he would suggest such a thing.

"Yeah, bet you didn't tell her the whole story, either," Jasper said. I shook my head.

"Fuck no."

"You guys are _really_ not comforting," Edward grumbled. Jasper took a second to calm himself and then turned his attention to Edward, looking at him seriously.

"Okay man," he started carefully. "What we're saying is, there's not much you can do. First times are always awkward. But you love Bella, and so no matter what, it'll be fucking beautiful and fulfilling or some shit."

"Very nicely put," I congratulated him.

/

I finally made it back to my room sometime around one in the morning, a little more tipsy than I would have liked. Probably a little more tipsy than I realized, since it struck me as a good idea to just flop down on my bed without even changing into pajamas, falling asleep quickly.

I hadn't been asleep long, though, before I was woken up.

"Emmett," Rosalie hissed, tapping my shoulder. It took my eyes a second to focus on her.

"Hey babe," I said. My voice was pretty steady. It was getting hard to judge my level of intoxication. I sat up and motioned for her to sit beside me. "I didn't think you'd be over tonight."

"My parents left early," she said. "All the easier to ignore the issues."

"Yeah, I've heard. Your mom came over here and started yelling all about it to my mom," I said. If nothing else, this conversation was proving to be thankfully sobering.

"Sorry about that," she replied sheepishly. I shrugged. It had happened, there wasn't really much I could do to change it now.

"So what's the verdict?" I asked. "How did your parents react to your 'evidence'?"

"We're pretending it never happened," Rosalie said softly. "All of it, my parents are acting like it's just a giant void in our lives, where absolutely nothing noteworthy happened."

"That's… really sad," I said, running my hand up and down her arm. It was an awkward gesture, but all that I could think to do.

"That's reality," she countered, sighing. "Sometimes reality is sad." Her angelic features reflected this statement for a moment before she smiled softly. "But at least I'm free now."

"Free?" I asked, chuckling. She nodded. "I don't know babe, you're pretty good and stuck with me, aren't you?" I almost winced at how untrue that statement was proving to be. But I couldn't tell her now. The end of the year was still a ways away, and this was… sort of good news. There was no sense in bringing it up now.

"But that's my choice," she said. "And I'm free to be good and stuck with you."

Her relief was evident in her entire being – the way she held herself, her smile… I wished I could feel that same relief, but I knew I still had something to do before I could.

/

**AN**: Originally, boy's night wasn't in this chapter, but without it, it was very short, and heavy, as far as my usual content goes. Sorry if the addition made it too fluffy, but I hope you enjoyed it. I had fun writing it.

As a side note: to those of you who reviewed last chapter and did not get a reply/smuttake, I am _so_ sorry. I transferred my files to my new computer from my BlackBerry, and of course, the file got corrupted. This isn't the first time this has happened, and you would think I'd learn, but unfortunately I'm a little slower than that. I do apologize and I'm working on rewriting the smuttake, but it may be a bit longer before it gets to you. Again, I am so, so sorry.

I look forward to hearing from you!

Reviewers get their choice of edible underwear or a candy necklace. I myself choose the necklace. It's much more appropriate to snack on in public. Lol!


	17. Round Seventeen

**Not Without A Fight  
**Annaleise Marie

**Round Seventeen**

**AN**: Sorry for the wait, guys. I seem to be saying that a lot lately. For those of you who have stuck with me through my sporadic updating through the last year or so, thank you very, very much. I promise I'll do better. :)

I own thirty yards of black pleather that will someday be three Organization XIII cloaks (or so I'm told), but I do not own Twilight. That's Stephenie Meyer, and if you knew me, you'd know I look _nothing_ like her. And if I don't even look like her, then chances are, I'm not her. Right? Right.

/

The morning of the match with Insight was cold, the air heavy and scented with approaching snow. I got up early to run with Jasper, and then went to breakfast with him, Alice, and Rosalie, for a bit of carb loading. The meal was tense, mainly because Alice and Rosalie were doing the good girlfriend thing and trying to get us pumped up for the match, but Jasper and I really didn't want to discuss it. I didn't want Rosalie to know what I was planning.

In retrospect, that was probably the first sign that I shouldn't do it. But hey, I'm a slow learner, I guess.

After breakfast, we split up and Jasper and I went to the gym for a quick pre-match practice before suiting up and heading out to the benches. The Insight wrestlers were already there, and I could see Royce, towards the right side of the bench.

My eyes flickered to the stands, where Rosalie sat with Alice, both of them perched on the edge of their seats, as though anxious. Part of me was glad she was here, but another, larger part of me was anxious myself at this reality. I knew what I was going to do, and Royce's words less than an hour ago had only cemented that decision, but I didn't really want Rosalie to see it. I didn't want her to be able to imagine me as that violent person, or even suspect that I was capable of it.

Not that it changed anything, of course. But still, I almost wished she would become miraculously distracted the moment I stepped onto the mat, and not turn her attention back until it was over, but I knew there was no way that was going to happen.

I heard mine and Royce's names over the crackly gym speakers and stood. Jasper stood as well, resting his hand on my shoulder and leaning towards me to whisper conspiratorially.

"Listen man, if all else fails, twist his nuts. He'll go down like a bag of rocks," he said.

"What?" I asked, sure I had heard him wrong. The serious look on his face told me otherwise. "Gross, Jasper, no!"

"It'll work," he insisted.

"I'm not getting disqualified for groping another guy's balls," I hissed. He shrugged and sat back down as I made my way to the mat, where Royce already stood, sneering at me.

I strode to the center of the mat and reached down to grab the green strip of vinyl and strap it around my ankle, never breaking eye contact with that fucker. I'd be wiping that smirk off his face soon enough.

"Shake," the referee commanded.

I gave that fist he had used to pummel my woman a quick pump, and stepped on the line as Royce did the same. The ref backed up and gave a loud blast from his whistle.

Game on.

We circled each other a few times, but I wasn't about to wait for him to make the first move. I shot forward, reaching toward his right leg, but he was surprisingly fast. My hands closed around thin air, and before I could blink he was counter-attacking. I saw him coming at me from the side, but I managed to turn before he could get his hands completely locked around my waist. I got one hand around his neck and the other into the crook of his arm.

I could hear Coach Clapp yelling something at me from the sideline, but with the funky headgear and the noise of the crowd, I couldn't understand a fucking word he was saying.

Royce was trying to sweep my legs out from under me, going for the take-down, but fuck that and fuck him. He may have been fast, but I had brute strength.

I rushed into him, knocking him backward onto his ass.

"Take-down, green!" The ref bellowed, holding up two fingers.

He squirmed underneath me, flipping onto his stomach. "Fuck," I heard him mutter as he started crawling toward the edge of the mat.

"Oh no, you don't," I muttered back, digging my fingers into his flesh. I wasn't about to let him escape like the pussy he was.

Unfortunately, I didn't make the progress as quickly as I was hoping for, and the next thing I knew, a loud buzzer was going off, sounding the end of the first period. I was pissed. Pissed at myself and pissed at Royce. He was better than I'd thought, but I wasn't about to let this continue.

The ref flipped the red and green coin. "Green," he announced and looked at me expectantly.

I heard Coach Clapp yell "neutral!" probably thinking I'd be able to score another take-down. But I wasn't interested in playing another round of "chicken" and trying bring him to his knees.

"Offensive," I said, narrowing my eyes at Royce. This wasn't about scoring points; this was about punishing him for crimes against women. A woman. _My_ woman.

My disregard for Coach Clapp's advice didn't go unnoticed by Royce as he shrugged his shoulders and gave me that stupid smirk again before dropping to his knees. I crouched behind him, wrapping one arm around him and placing a hand on his navel. My other hand rested lightly on his arm, near the crook of his elbow.

The whistle blew again. "This is for Rosalie," I grunted, immediately driving my fist as hard as I could into his stomach and jerking his arm behind his back.

The sound of his gasp, then loss of air, was music to my ears as I collapsed on top of him.

But before I could celebrate too much, I felt a sudden, sharp pain in my balls. That fucker had pulled his leg back to kick me right where it counted.

I jerked his arm even harder behind him, wishing I could break it off right at the elbow. I pulled my fist out from under his stomach and placed my forearm right behind his neck.

"Eat mat, asshole." I said, as I kept pushing and pushing, driving his face as hard as I could into the floor. I heard a snap, and Royce's scream of pain at the same time.

Oh _shit_, oh _goody_.

The ref blew his whistle again, and I felt him tapping me on the shoulder.

"Injury time out!"

Blood was pouring from Royce's nose, as he rolled back and forth along the mat as I crawled off of him.

Good.

However, Coach seemed to disagree.

"What is wrong with you?" he shouted.

"Sorry," I mumbled, shooting a look out of the corner of my eye at Rosalie. She looked upset, and understandably so. I had to remind myself that this was all for her. No one fucking touches my woman and gets away with it.

Coach Clapp was spouting some kind of strategy that I should be using, but I was hardly paying attention. All I could think about was Rose and destroying Royce - that is, assuming he didn't puss out over a little thing like a broken nose.

Finally, the ref blew the whistle again - apparently Royce _hadn't _had enough yet, and I was face-to-face with the devil incarnate once more. He must have had at least a pound of tissue shoved up his nose.

Once he was on his knees and I had assumed the position once more, the whistle blew, and I attacked. Royce tried to scramble out from under me, but with all the adrenaline coursing through my veins, he didn't stand a chance. He twisted as best he could, shoved a hand under my chin, and pushed with all his might.

I couldn't see anything other than the ceiling above me, but I managed to get a hand around his throat and squeeze.

I groaned as the fucking whistle went off again, right in my ear. "Potentially dangerous!" The ref yelled as he tapped my hand.

_Well, no shit, ref_. I had tried my best to disguise what I was doing, but all I really wanted to do was choke the life out of him. I guess I hadn't hidden it as well as I thought.

Royce was sure playing it up though, coughing and rubbing his throat like I'd tried to murder him or something. Okay, maybe I had - but for Christ's sake, be a man about it.

We moved into position again, and at the sound of the whistle, I was back in attack mode. He almost managed to worm his way out from under me this time, but I held onto his waist and refused to let him escape.

I heard him mutter "fuck you, asshole," right before his elbow crashed into the side of my face, not once - but twice.

"No, fuck YOU," I was furious now, like an angry grizzly bear. I grabbed a hold of him and flipped him onto his back, pinning him down with my weight.

The crowd went nuts - cheering for the obvious fall. And I might have been satisfied to just shove his shoulders against the mat and take the win.

But Royce didn't know how to keep his mouth shut. "Rose prefers to be on top, too," he sneered at me.

At that moment, something inside me snapped.

The cheers turned into screams, as my fists connected squarely with his face over and over again, but I couldn't hear anything anymore really - not the sound of the whistle blowing or the referee's yelling, just a faint _whooshing_ sound. I just kept punching, even as the ref and Coach Clapp were dragging me off of Royce's motionless body.

I didn't care that I'd just been disqualified. I didn't care that Royce would be awarded the win. I didn't care that the crowd probably hated me for what I'd just done. I didn't care that I'd be kicked off the team for this. I only cared that I had achieved my one goal - punishment - and if I had to do it all over again, I wouldn't change a thing.

Coach Clapp steered me forcefully to the bench, pushing on my shoulders to make me sit beside Jasper and giving me a look that plainly forbade me from moving as he rushed back to the mat. I was thankful, in a way. I felt drained, exhausted, now that the adrenaline was leaving my veins.

"Whoa." I turned my head to see Jasper staring at me incredulously. When had my hearing returned? "Whoa," he repeated, gaping from me to Royce. "_Whoa_!" he breathed again when two paramedics entered the gym.

"Can't you fucking say anything else?" I snapped. He raised his hands defensively.

"Whoa, down Tiger," he said, shaking his head. "Just kind of shocking, is all."

"Yeah, well," I muttered, watching as the paramedics finally got Royce to stand and led him over to his team.

/

**RPOV**

Oh my God. _Oh my God_.

I stared in horror at the aftermath of the match. Seated nearly on the middle of the bleachers, I was surrounded by both Forks and Insight supporters. Not that Forks seemed to really have many supporters, after that show.

"Oh my God," Bella gasped, echoing my internal sentiments. I looked at her and her eyes were wide, her hand clasped lightly over her gaping mouth. Alice, seated on Bella's other side, looked fairly unsurprised and was craning her neck to see Royce as the paramedics sat him on the bench.

"Oh, he'll be fine," she said, waving her hand dismissively. Bella's eyes snapped to her, and if it were possible she looked more horrified. I wondered how I looked. I couldn't tell; was my face pulled into that mask of horror? Was I calm? I couldn't think.

I turned my attention to Emmett. Coach Clapp was yelling at him, and he was strangely still. On the mat, the matches went on. I don't think anyone was actually watching anymore. Emmett nodded sharply after a moment and stood up, walking towards the locker room. Alice reached behind Bella to push me between the shoulder blades. I glared at her but stood up at her assured nod, stepping down the bleachers to cross in front of the bench and enter the girl's locker room.

The back exit led to a long hall that ran along the front of the gym, and I stepped out into it, crossing quickly to the men's locker room once I was sure no one was in the hall. I paused at the door, suddenly unsure.

I knew no one was in there, so why was I so hesitant to go in? The image flashed through my mind, of Emmett pinning Royce down, his heavy fists making contact with his face, Royce lying motionless on the mat, blood pouring from his nose, Emmett's face twisted in rage, Coach Clapp pulling him off, having to use all of his strength to restrain Emmett from lunging at Royce again, the crowd cheering, then screaming, the masks of horror, rage…

I was afraid of him.

And that's not something I ever imagined feeling with Emmett.

/

**EPOV**

I was supposed to wait in the locker room for Coach Clapp, but waiting was driving me insane. I was restless, the adrenaline still coursing through me. I didn't want to just wait here, especially because I already knew what was going to happen. I was off of the team, that much was certain. I might be suspended. Who cares? I just wanted out.

I changed quickly and gave Coach Clapp a courtesy five minutes to come in. When he didn't, I slammed through the door to the outer hall of the gym, hearing a small squeak in response. Rosalie was standing just outside the door, thankfully out of range of being hit by it, her hand held to her chest, her expression startled.

"Emmett!" she exclaimed. "Jesus Christ, you scared me."

"Sorry," I said, smiling. "You ready to go?"

"Am I ready to… Do you remember what just happened in there?" she asked, looking genuinely concerned for my sanity.

"Of course."

"You're just so calm," she said.

"Should I be upset?" I asked. What was the deal here? Surely she wasn't actually upset about what I had done to that piece of shit?

"Well, Emmett, you kind of went crazy in there…" she said, trailing off.

"Don't fucking tell me you're worried about him," I said, anger rising. She opened her mouth to speak. "No, don't Rosalie. Don't even fucking…" I trailed off, trying to find words for what was running through my head. Frustrated, I turned and headed for the door. I needed to cool down before I could deal with this.

"Emmett!" Rosalie shouted, and I could hear her heels clicking sharply on the linoleum as she followed me. "Would you stop? We need to talk about this!"

"I don't want to talk about this!" I shouted back as I threw open the gym door. I knew it sounded childish. I didn't care.

"Emmett!" she shouted before the door swung shut. A second later it slammed open again as she burst through it, her steps slowing a little as she tried to navigate the ice in her heels. My Jeep was in sight now. "Really, you're just going to walk away from me?"

"Why not?" I asked coldly. It hurt. Ten more steps. "Shouldn't you be back there comforting Royce? I mean, he's such a victim and all, what with big bad crazy Emmett beating the shit out of him for no good reason, right?"

"Emmett—" she started, her voice breaking. Five steps. "Emmett! Would you just _stop_? I never said any of that!"

"But that's it, isn't it?" I demanded, turning to face her by the door to the Jeep. She had stopped when I did, about a yard away.

"I just don't think it was really right, what you did," she said quietly. "It doesn't seem like you."

"Not right?" I asked, astonished. "It's not right for him to have to pay for what he did to you? He did so much _worse_ to you, Rosalie! What I did was practically fucking merciful!"

"How is what you did any better?" she demanded. "How does it make you any different than him?"

That one hurt. I felt like I had been punched in the gut. I couldn't breathe, couldn't think.

"How does it make me any different from the guy who raped and beat you?" I asked. "How… Tell me something, Rosalie, how _am_ I different? If I'm so much like him, then what about you?" I could feel it. It was coming forward, and I couldn't stop it. This was going to hurt her, and it was going to hurt me, but I couldn't stop it. "When he _raped_ you, did you like it? Did you get off, like you do with me? Did you tell him you loved him? Did you like it when he hit you? Because you say I'm like him, but I don't remember ever mistreating you. So it couldn't have been that bad when he did it, right?" I sneered. Her face fell, her complexion draining.

"You don't mean that," she whispered. "You know—"

"That's just it, Rosalie," I said. "I don't know anymore." I opened the door to the Jeep and started to climb in. I had to get away, from her, from what I had just done, just said. I had just shattered everything, and I needed to get away before it broke completely.

"Where are you going?" she asked, her voice choked.

"Home," I said, before shutting the door. She shook her head as I started the engine. I had looked down for one second to turn on the heat, just one second. That was all it took. In the next moment there was a resounding _thunk_, and a _crack_, and when I looked up, my windshield had spiderwebbed. What the hell had just happened?

Rosalie was now standing, feet shoulder-width apart, her arm outstretched as if she had thrown something, tears streaming down her face. I looked down, towards the windshield wipers, and spotted her ring resting on them. I was torn between awe that she could throw something that small with enough force to break a fucking Jeep window, and the mantra that had started in my mind.

_Before it breaks… before it breaks… before it breaks…_

Too late.

/

**AN**: This chapter was originally a lot longer, but well, we've got quite a lot going on, don't we? Plus, I wanted to update so I broke it into two parts.

Ahem. The actual wrestling/fight scene was written by the lovely, talented, inspiring, life saver, and my soulmate, **Nachos4Children**. Be sure to let her know what you thought! :D I also recommend reading it through with "Hell No!" by Better Than Ezra. Brings it to the next level, I think.

Since I get the feeling I'll be fairly lynched if I leave this hanging in this way for very long, I'm going to update fairly quickly. But the more reviews I get, the more motivated I become. /hinthint

And now, I'll toss it to you, you lovely readers, you! What do you think?


	18. Round Eighteen

**Not Without A Fight  
**Annaleise Marie

**Round Eighteen**

**AN**: Miss me? Sorry, I was in hiding after that last chapter. What _must_ you have thought of me?

A note on this chapter: I realized, when I thought about writing the first part, that I would finally have to give Emmett's mom a real name, instead of just 'Emmett's mom' or 'Ms. McCarty'. After talking it over with **Nachos4Children**, I have decided that Esme is Emmett's mom. So yeah. That's what that's about.

If you're under eighteen, please do not admit to reading the last part of this chapter. Kay? Great.

Moving steadily onward, I own a shiny new Nissan Versa – _love itttt_ – but I don't now, nor have I ever, nor _will _I ever, own Twilight. That is, and – god willing – always will be, Stephenie Meyer's problem. I just like playing with the characters. :D

/

**3rdPOV**

Esme paced the hall nervously, glancing every few minutes between the front door and the clock on the living room wall. Carlisle would be there any minute, and she had to find some way to talk to him about this. She had had these conversations before; contrary to what Emmett believed, she had not been celibate in the years since her husband had died. But she had never been quite so interested in any of them before, either. Something with Carlisle had just clicked, had just felt _right_.

But despite all of that, she had to admit that Emmett had been right, to an extent, no matter how out of line he had been. She wasn't done mourning her late husband. And that wasn't fair to Carlisle. He deserved to find someone who could give themselves to him completely, not someone who still had half their heart reserved for the memory of a dead man.

Five minutes sooner than she had really expected, she heard tires on the driveway and faltered for a minute. Should she meet him at the door? Should she wait for him to ring the bell? Too eager? Too unconcerned?

Before she had much time to mull it over, though, Emmett came bursting through the door, causing her to start a bit. She hadn't been expecting him home so early. The matches were supposed to go on for another hour, at least, and then for him to go out with his friends or the team afterwards. She and Carlisle had both missed going to watch Emmett and Edward to have this conversation privately.

"Emmett?" she asked, catching sight of his face as he passed her. "What's wrong?" He turned back from the stairs to face her, opened his mouth, shut it again, and shook his head. "Did something happen?" What had happened to them, she wondered. Since moving to this place, it seemed like it had been just one thing after another.

"I… wrestled Royce. Just now," he said. He seemed jumpy, and Esme wrinkled her brow in thought. That was strange. Not that he had wrestled Royce; she could believe they were in the same weight class, although Emmett looked bulkier. But something seemed off.

"Well… did you lose?" she asked when he didn't continue.

"No," Emmett said with a hoarse laugh. "Well, yeah, technically. I was disqualified, so I guess technically I lost."

"Why were you disqualified?" Esme asked, glancing at the clock. Carlisle was late. That was odd, as well. Maybe it was just a strange day. Something, call it mother's intuition, told her otherwise.

"I kind of… beat Royce up," Emmett said hesitantly. Esme gaped at him. What… "I mean, I planned to, honestly, but then he started saying shit about Rosalie and it just kind of… it got worse than I planned. I might be suspended."

Suspended. Emmett had never been suspended before. Esme had had a lot of trouble with Emmett over the years – he was a good kid, but well, a little hard to keep in check from time to time – but normally it was things that she could handle herself. Things like calming the angry parents of girls in the neighbourhood, paying for small property damages, taking him to the hospital after he had done something in typical stupid teenager fashion. The school had never been involved, and the police had never been involved. Would police be involved?

"How bad is it? Do I need to get a lawyer? Are you going to be arrested?" she asked. He shook his head mutely. Distantly, Esme heard Carlisle pull into the driveway. This would have to be dealt with later. "Go up to your room for a bit. We'll talk about this more later."

Emmett nodded, disappearing up the stairs just as the doorbell rang. Esme took a deep breath, smoothing her hair and clothes nervously. She knew she looked fine, but she felt flustered, mussed, from the news she had just received.

She opened the door and stood aside to let Carlisle in, shutting the door softly behind him. He greeted her, leaning in to kiss her briefly before she pulled away, motioning towards the living room.

"Would you like something to drink?" she asked. "Coffee, tea, water?" Carlisle shook his head, and with nothing left to delay the conversation, she felt at a loss for words. "How are you?" she asked. It sounded stupid, even to her.

"Better than I think I'm going to be in a few minutes," Carlisle said quietly. "How are you?"

"Emmett got into a fight," she said.

"That doesn't really sound like Emmett," he replied. She shook her head.

"No," she agreed. "Actually, we've both been acting a little strange since we came here."

"Really," Carlisle said. It wasn't a question, more just a word to fill the pause, a way to stay a part of the conversation.

"This thing with you and I," she started, willing her voice to stay strong. "I don't do this. Losing Dale was _really_ hard, and with Emmett and just, everything in my life, I haven't been able to move past it. I care about you, Carlisle. I hope you believe that. But –"

"But, this is it," Carlisle broke in. "This," he motioned between the two of them, "is over."

"I'm sorry," Esme said, her voice wavering. "But it's not fair, to be in this with you if I can't be _all_ in it. You deserve so much more than someone still in love with a ghost. You deserve someone who can love you with everything they have."

"I'd be a fool if I hadn't realized that you'd always be in love with your late husband," Carlisle said evenly. "But you're a bigger fool if you think that you only have room to love one person in your life, or that you love someone any less for also loving someone else. I'll always love Edward's mother, after all."

He stood, making his way to the door.

"When you realize that you're not shorting someone by doing that, come find me," he said.

"We're moving," Esme said, her voice breaking. "In June."

"That's okay. I'll still be here then." Carlisle stopped at the door, looking back at her. "I do love you, for what it's worth. And I hope that one day, you do come find me."

And then he was gone. Esme blinked back tears. That hadn't gone as she had planned. His response had made it so much harder. But she had other things to worry about. She was a mother, first, and right now, no matter what had happened, her son obviously need her.

/

**RPOV**

"You did _what_?" Jasper asked, racing to the window and looking out at the McCarty's driveway. He let out a low whistle. "_Damn_. How did you even do that?"

"I was mad. He said things that just… really _never_ should have been said," I answered.

"So did you," Alice chimed in. I had already recounted the story to her and Bella. "Really, Rosalie, comparing Emmett to Royce?"

"You compared _Emmett _to _Royce_?" Jasper asked disbelievingly. "Well, shit, Rosalie, I would've snapped at you, too."

"Regardless of why he did it, violence is still not the way to solve anything. The Royce issue had been resolved, it was over. And then he goes and beats the shit out of him. That doesn't solve anything. That's something Royce would do."

"You don't get it, Rose," Jasper sighed, flopping down onto the couch beside Alice. "Guys thinking patterns haven't really changed since the stone age. I get that women aren't property, so save that. But you're _his_. That's just how it is. And Royce messed with what's his. So Royce had to pay. It's _completely _different than what Royce did. And then you tell him he's just like him. See, Emmett, by very instinct, was protecting you. Royce was hurting you. So you see why that just… made him snap?"

I turned my attention to Alice, who was looking thoughtful. After a second she seemed to snap out of it.

"So you both said things you didn't mean, and maybe Emmett should've just let the Royce issue rest, but you shouldn't have broken his windshield, either. But is it really something you guys can't get past?"

"Why do you always make things sound so simple?" I groaned. It wasn't that simple. No matter what, I would always remember what Emmett had said, how he had acted.

"Because they are. You two just way overcomplicate things," Alice said, waving her hand dismissively.

"I broke his windshield."

"So fix it."

"I don't do glass, Alice."

"No, but you know people who do. Isn't this worth a favour?" she asked. I groaned. Owing _those_ people a favour wasn't quite the same as owing anyone else. But I guess Alice was right. At the very least, I should fix his windshield, anyway. No matter how everything worked out.

"Fine," I said, pulling out my phone.

/

**EPOV**

I was tired. Three hours later, I had finished recounting the story to Mom from the very beginning – the first day here, when Royce had shown up at Rosalie's house – all the way up to today, editing certain parts heavily because well, she's my _mom_, and there are things a mom should just never know.

She didn't say much when I was done, just nodded, agreed to wait until tomorrow to talk about it, told me that regardless of what had led to it, violence was never the answer, and that I would be punished for getting suspended, and then went to her room.

As glad as I was that that whole conversation was over, the silence gave me too much time to think about what had happened after the match. Rosalie's ring was still in my pocket, and I was painfully aware of it. I'd have to get my windshield fixed, as well. I hadn't told Mom about that yet.

She told me I was like _him_.

She told me I was no different.

She looked fucking _scared_ of me.

I hated that. Now that the adrenaline had died down, I couldn't even be mad anymore. All I could think of was that I had _scared _her. I had made her think I was no better than Royce.

Emmett Fucking McCarty: Certifiable fuck-up.

I wanted to just sleep. I'd have to deal with it eventually, I knew, but I didn't want to. I was sure I had lost Rosalie, ruined everything that we had, and I didn't want to face it.

Unfortunately, I _couldn't_ sleep, between my racing mind, and the _fucking racket outside_.

I peered out the window towards the front of the house and saw Rosalie down by the driveway, facing the house, her arms crossed, hair pulled back out of her face, a look of sheer annoyance plastered across her features. She was saying something to someone out of view, but I couldn't make out what it was.

I left my room, heading downstairs to the front door. I slid on my shoes before hurrying out into the cold.

"– None of your damned business, Felix," she said saying.

"I'm just sayin', I mean, it's a pretty big deal for ya to call us about someone else's car if nothing happened," a male voice answered.

"Ex-boyfriend?" another asked, and Rosalie's face fell for a second before the annoyed mask was promptly hitched back into place.

"Shut the fuck up," was her articulate reply.

"Think we hit a nerve, Demitri," the first voice remarked. "So what'd he do to ya to make ya bust his windshield? Ya know ya could always join the family at the shop. We'd take care of ya."

"Just finish up and leave," Rosalie commanded. "Have Aro call me himself to discuss payment."

I stepped off of the porch, pulling the door shut behind me. Rosalie's head whipped toward me and she looked nervous for a minute. I stepped further into the yard and looked over to the two men who were stationed by my Jeep, at the moment hoisting a new, intact windshield into place. The one closest to me clucked his tongue.

"Damn, Rosalie, doesn't he damn near break ya?"

"What the fuck are you—" I started but Rosalie interrupted me.

"They'll be gone soon, Emmett, don't worry," she said. "They work for Aro, a… friend of the family, and they agreed to fix your windshield."

Well, that's all well and good, and yay, windshield problem fixed, but I was more upset about the way they were talking to Rosalie. And furthermore, _why_ was Rosalie at my house, fixing my windshield? I mean, yeah, technically she broke it, but none if it would've happened, if not for me.

"Rosalie," I started again, but she shook her head.

"Just go inside, Emmett," she said, her eyes never leaving the two men. "We'll talk about it later."

I figured that it was probably best to just listen to her, and returned to my room once more, but after a few more hours, Rosalie still hadn't come over. She and the men had both disappeared from the driveway, and my windshield looked just like it had before the day's events. But still, no Rosalie.

Around seven, I heard my mother leave for work. And then all hell broke loose.

"Emmett!" Rosalie shouted from downstairs, the front door slamming behind her. I nearly flew out of my room and halfway down the stairs before slowing to a stroll the rest of the way. I was determined to not let her know just how whipped I was.

She looked run-down, but otherwise unharmed.

"Who were those guys?" I asked. Okay, not the single most important question to ask, but it was a start.

"I told you, they work for a friend of the family. I can't fix glass, so I asked them to fix it as a favour," she said. "I shouldn't have broken your windshield. I'm sorry."

She looked it, too, as she walked past me, her shoulders slumped, and headed up towards my room.

"What did you mean by payment?" I asked. She shrugged.

"Usually they have me disappear some VIN numbers for them. They're not the most reputable bunch," she said. I gaped at her as she flopped down on my bed. That was so illegal it's ridiculous. "So I went up to Port Angeles with them, did a few hours work, and we're even. No big deal." I was about to tell her _just _how big a deal that was, when she continued. "We, however, are not quite even."

I wasn't sure how to take that. Who owed who?

"Well, we're even, I guess, but we're not okay," she amended at my confused look. "What you said… that wasn't okay, Emmett."

I ran my fingers through my short hair, trying to think of something to say. I wished, in that moment, that us being 'even' could cancel out everything and we could just move past it. But yeah, I was aware that what I had said was a low blow. Not that I hadn't meant it at the time. That was what made this so tricky.

"You compared me to Royce, babe," I said. Yup, when all else fails you, point the finger at someone else, Emmett. Real nice.

"You were acting like Royce," she said calmly. "I didn't like seeing that side of you. I like the side I fell in love with. The gentle, caring, sweet, funny Emmett. You scared me."

"You know I'd never hurt you," I said, and it sounded almost pleading. She frowned, looking at the floor.

"But you did," she said. "What you said… I'd take one hundred beatings from Royce before I'd want to hear that from you."

"I'm sorry," I said. I really was. "I'm sorry that I hurt you, and that I scared you. That wasn't what I was trying to do."

"What _were _you trying to do?" she asked. "That's what I don't get. The whole Royce issue was over. What were you trying to prove?"

Prove? I wasn't trying to _prove_ anything.

"He hurt you, Rosalie," I said. "I just… I care about you so much. And he hurt you. I just wanted him to feel _half_ of what he had put you through."

"And it backfired."

"Well, yeah, you could say that," I said, smiling sheepishly. She sighed and stood up, crossing the room to meet me.

"Let it go, Emmett," she said. "It's over. He's not an issue anymore. I need you to move on, so that I can move on. So that _we_ can move on."

"There's still a _we_," I observed. She rolled her eyes.

"I guess after everything, you deserve another shot. And you meant well. You're just kind of a bonehead," she teased. "And I'm sorry, too, for comparing you to Royce. You're nothing like him, and I'm so lucky that you care about me that much."

I hadn't realized a weight had settled over me until that moment, when it was lifted, and I felt tears sting my eyes. I hadn't even realized how close I had come to losing her. I hadn't let myself think about it.

"I'm sorry," I said again as her arms encircled me, her head resting against my chest. It was all I could think to say. "I'm so sorry."

She stayed with me that night, her ring back on her finger, her body tangled with mine, and I thought that nothing had felt more right in my life.

/

I let my eyes roam around Coach Clapp's office as my mom and I waited for him to finish with first period gym. The principal was also going to be present for this meeting. Although I regretted how horribly it had backfired, I still firmly believed Royce deserved everything he got, and I was ready to take whatever punishment they were going to hand to me. Mom, however, was on the edge of her seat, her leg bouncing with her nerves, checking her watch every few minutes.

There was a new trophy in place on the wrestling shelf. I guess we had won the meet, despite my debacle. That was good. It wasn't my intention to punish the whole team for my bit of revenge.

And, if Forks had won, that meant Royce's team had lost. Hah!

Coach Clapp, closely followed by Mr. Greene, the principal, entered the office within ten minutes, and my mom stood quickly, nudging me to do the same, shaking their hands.

"Well, let's jump right in, shall we?" Mr. Greene started, setting a file down on the desk. I would wonder if there was anything in it, but my school files were always fairly thin. I didn't stay in one place for long, and I didn't get in much trouble at school, so aside from grades there was very little to put in the files. "I'm sure by now we all know what happened during the wrestling match the other day, and with all due respect, we're not so much concerned with _why_. However, Forks High School has a zero-tolerance violence policy, which means that regardless of the reason, Emmett will be suspended for two day or a week, depending on what we decide here. The situation's complicated by the fact that, despite it being a school event, it was the weekend, and involved a student from another school. Therefore, I'm taking Emmett's clean history and Coach Clapp's testimony that Emmett has never been exceedingly violent, even as a member of a wrestling team, into consideration and recommending him for the minimum two days."

My mother nodded, looking almost relieved. No doubt what she had imagined was closer to expulsion than this, which was really just a slap on the wrists, considering.

"We would also like for Emmett to talk to the guidance counselor here at school," Coach Greene added.

"What? I don't need to talk to a guidance counselor!" I interrupted. Mom pinched me warningly and I gritted my teeth.

"That sounds reasonable," she agreed and I shot her a mutinous glare. She knew why the fight had happened, she should know I don't need a fucking shrink.

"Okay. Well then, if you could both sign this, acknowledging Emmett's suspension, you may go and Emmett may return to school on Wednesday," Mr. Greene said, sliding a form towards us. Once it was signed he separated the triplicate layers and handed the pink one to me. Great. Thanks.

/

**RPOV**

Emmett's fight with Royce seemed to be all people could talk about at school, and it was starting to irritate me. Seriously, some of the rumors flying around were just ridiculous.

Like the one about me two-timing with Emmett and Royce, and Emmett finding out, and driven mad with jealousy deciding to kill Royce.

Seriously, people, this isn't a soap opera.

Or, the ever popular, 'Oh, did you see how violent Emmett is? And did you see that bruise on Rosalie's face? I heard he hits her, too, and Royce found out. He's really just a victim in this."

Jesus Christ, these people are stupid.

One thing was pretty consistent, though: Emmett, it seemed, had been suspended for a few days. I went to his teachers and gathered up all of his work for the duration of his suspension, figuring that I would run it by after his mom went to work that night.

It seemed like ages before I looked outside and his mom's car was finally gone. I headed over there immediately, taking note of the fact that his bedroom light was on. I let myself in and made my way up to his room, plucking a book off of the shelf and taking my normal place on his bed to wait for him to get out of the shower.

I hadn't been reading for long when I heard something. It was quiet, and I couldn't quite pinpoint what it was. I froze, listening hard, and after a few moments, I heard it again.

It was a fucking _moan_. Determined not to let my mind jump to the dirtiest conclusion, I weighed the possibilities. Maybe Emmett was sick? Stress can do that to you, and the last few days – or, weeks, really – had definitely qualified as stressful. Maybe…

Nope. That's all I got. He's either sick, or jerking off.

I tiptoed over to the bathroom, pressing my ear against the door. I felt like a creeper, but at the same time, I didn't want to go in there without knowing what to expect.

"Rose…" he groaned.

Oh fuck, he _is_. He's jerking off.

He's jerking off thinking about me.

That's… well, honestly, that's kind of hot. I had never thought about it, and I was surprised at how much the idea appealed to me.

I turned the knob carefully, trying to stay as quiet as possible, and opened the door enough to stick my head in.

I could see Emmett's silhouette through the steam-covered glass shower door, his head thrown back, his arm stretched out in front of him, supporting his weight against the shower wall, his other hand fisting his cock.

"Fuck," he hissed.

_Fuck is right_, I thought, my eyes wide, my heart pounding hard.

Emmett froze, his head turning toward the door.

_Did I say that out loud? _I wondered, suddenly panicking. He turned, shut the water off, and held still. I tried not to breathe. I was caught, in that moment. I couldn't leave and close the door, or he'd hear me. He'd see me, no getting around that. But what was I supposed to say?

"_Oh, yeah, uh, I came over to bring you homework and heard you moaning my name so I came to investigate"_? I somehow didn't think so.

"Rosalie?" he asked hesitantly.

"Hmm?" I said, blushing.

"Oh fuck!" he exclaimed, sounding relieved. "I thought Mom might've just walked in on that! Fuck, why didn't you say something?" He was laughing now, deep, easy laughter. He wasn't embarrassed? Well, I guess it's nothing I hadn't seen, but hell, I'd be embarrassed in that situation!

"Sorry, I'll just uh… let you finish," I said as the shower door slid open and Emmett peered out, grinning wickedly at me.

"Uh-uh," he said, shaking his head. "Join me."

"Join you?" I asked, surprised.

"Fuck, babe, don't act so damn naïve," he chuckled. I tried to pull myself out of the surprise of the request and stepped into the bathroom, shutting the door behind me. He kept watching me as I took off my jacket.

"Are you going to watch me?" I asked.

"Of course I'm going to watch you!" he exclaimed and I blushed. Why was I so shy all of a sudden? This wasn't anywhere near my first time with Emmett. But we had never… watched each other like this. It felt a hundred times more exposing. I shook that thought off and stripped quickly before joining him in the shower.

Immediately he bent down, wrapping his arms around me and bringing his lips to mine. The water clinging to his skin had cooled and felt like ice against mine, causing me to gasp. He chuckled and took the opportunity to deepen the kiss, stroking my tongue with his as his fingers tangled in my hair, cupping the back of my head.

My knees were beginning to feel weak. Emmett always had that effect on me. I shivered, both from the anticipation and the cooled water, and Emmett finally broke away to start the shower again. He pinned me against the wall as soon as he was done.

"What were you thinking, babe?" he asked, his voice husky. "When you realized what I was doing, what did you think?"

I blushed, unable to answer. Something about this situation was robbing me of words. Emmett chuckled at my silence and rocked his hips forward slightly, pressing his hard cock against my thigh. I let out of a low moan.

"You would not believe how often I do this, just thinking of you," he continued, and a whimper escaped my lips. "Every time I see you, or even just think of you, I want you."

_Oh, my God._

"Do you touch yourself, Rosalie?" he asked, nipping lightly at my neck. I blushed again. "Do you ever touch yourself thinking about _me_?"

I nodded, still unable to speak.

"Bad girl," he chuckled. "Why don't you show me, babe?" I gasped. Was he really suggesting… "Show me how you touch yourself when you think about me."

I whimpered as he pulled away, looking at me hungrily. I wasn't sure what to do. I was a little embarrassed at the idea of doing this in front of Emmett. At the same time, it was like he had started a fire inside of me that had settled right between my legs, and I was having a hard time ignoring it.

"Show me, babe," he rasped. I closed my eyes, willing myself to pretend he wasn't here, that he wasn't watching me, that I was in my own shower at home, imagining him. I started at my neck, one hand splayed against my thigh as the other traveled from my neck, down my chest, lightly, to caress my breasts. I let out a small sigh as my fingers brushed my sensitive nipple, before pinching them lightly between my thumb and pointer finger, a quiet moan falling from my lips.

I heard Emmett swear softly, but it didn't register as my other hand moved up my thigh, towards my center. My mind was working overtime. I was both aware that Emmett was standing there with me, not touching me, and imagining his hands moving over me, his mouth teasing my breast, his hand cupping my mound, pressing, putting pressure where I needed it most. I groaned, letting my head fall back as I swept one finger through my folds, teasing my entrance and clit lightly for a minute. Emmett moaned, and my eyes fluttered open to see him, leaning against the opposite wall, his hand once more fisted around his cock, his eyes on my hands.

"Fuck, babe," he hissed. I was getting more comfortable with this. Seeing his reaction to it made me feel fucking _sexy_, and somehow powerful. Emboldened, I thrust one finger into my core as my other hand came down to rub at my clit. I cried out, imagining Emmett fingering me, that image blurring with the real one of him jerking himself, watching me.

Between the two images, I wasn't going to last long, but that didn't matter. After a few more moments, Emmett's hands were on mine, yanking them away as his lips found mine, swallowing my groan of frustration.

"Fuck, Rosalie, I have to have you," he ground out, reaching over to turn the water off before picking me up and practically running from the bathroom. He tossed me onto the bed and jumped on after me, covering me quickly and kissing me again. "God damn, babe, you're so fucking sexy," he groaned, reaching down and sliding his own fingers through my folds. "_Fuck_," he hissed. "So fucking _wet_."

I bucked against his hand, trying to find that friction he had taken from me. He backed away long enough to reach into his bedside drawer for a condom.

"I'm going to fuck you so hard you won't walk straight for a week," he promised in a growl.

"Please, Emmett," I gasped, finally finding a way to form words. He grinned, rolling the condom on and then quickly flipping us so that I was on top.

"Fucking ride me."

I complied, holding his cock steady to sink down onto it, more aware in this position than any other of the full, stretching sensation as he pushed into me. I cried out as he immediately hit a spot deep inside of me that made my toes curl.

It took me a minute to find my rhythm, but soon we had created a steady pace of rise-and-fall, thrust-and-retreat. Every few thrusts he'd hit that spot and I'd scream, unable to stop myself from slamming my hips down to press my clit against his pelvic bone, shuddering from the sensations.

He held me on the edge for what felt like hours with that rhythm, and by the time he finally pushed me over it, I was nearly crying from the delicious torture of it. He sat up, pushing me down and thrusting harder, faster, and finally I screamed his name as my world shattered and came back together all on one long, drawn out, perfect moment.

Emmett followed right after me, shuddering and thrusting softly as he rode out his orgasm, before he pulled out and collapsed, half on top of me, careful not to crush me. I was trembling. That had probably been the most intense orgasm I had ever experienced.

"Fuck," Emmett sighed between heavy breaths.

"Yeah," I agreed with a laugh.

I stayed over again, cuddled with Emmett until I absolutely had to leave to get ready for school. Things seemed almost back to normal, and I couldn't be happier.

/

**AN**: I'm not really happy with ending the chapter there, but it was already over 5k words, so I figured it was as good a place as any. Thank you all so much for your feedback on the last chapter. I hope this one was satisfactory. But you're going to let me know in a review, aren't you?

A note on the lemon: That was my first ever mutual masturbation scene, so please be gentle? Sorry if it sucked.

Can't wait to hear from you! :D


	19. Round Nineteen

**Not Without A Fight  
**Annaleise Marie

**Round Nineteen**

**AN**: Thank you so much to everyone who reviewed the last chapter. Sorry I couldn't get around to individual replies, but well, you want the chapter more, right?

Everybody thank **Nachos4Children** once again, who responded promptly to my mayday message of "Now that the Royce issue is resolved, I have _no idea_ what to do with the time left before Emmett leaves. D:" She gave me some awesome suggestions, and here we are with the ball rolling once more! Hope you enjoy it!

I own the new Swiss Colony catalogue, which is tempting me with deliciousness and an open line of credit that does not belong to me, but I do not own Twilight. That would be Stephenie Meyer. I'd rather have the Swiss Colony merchandise, anyway. :P

/

**EPOV **

My first day back at school was… interesting, for lack of a better word. There were the usual whispers and rumors flying around, but although I knew they existed, I heard none of them. People grew immediately silent as I passed, averting their eyes when I'd look their way. They seemed nervous, shifty.

But it got weirder when Eric Yorkie dropped a notebook in the hall after second period. He didn't notice over the clamor of the class change, and I bent down to pick it up, speeding up a bit to catch him.

"Hey, Eric," I started, reaching out to tap him on the shoulder. He spun around, his eyes growing wide, his face draining of its colour.

"E-Emmett," he stuttered. "I didn't do anything, man."

"I know, you just—" I started, taken aback. He shook his head and backed away, seeming to search for words. "What's wrong with you?" I asked.

"N-Nothing," he said. "I've just gotta get to class."

And with that he ran off.

That was when it really hit me. Rosalie wasn't the only one I had freaked out at the match. Not that I really cared what asshats like Eric Yorkie thought of me, but it was still a strange thing to realize. I shrugged it off and went on to my third period class.

At lunch, Bella kept shooting me nervous glances, her eyes darting between me, her tray, and for some reason, Alice.

"I'm not going to lose it and attack someone," I finally said, and she laughed nervously.

"It's not that, actually," she said, looking down at her tray again. "I think I told Rosalie something I wasn't supposed to."

"What?" I asked, confused. She bit her lip, glancing from me to Alice and then back again.

"Well, Edward told me about how you're moving again in June, and I just mentioned it to her, and I swear I didn't know you hadn't told her yet!" she said hurriedly, staring at me apologetically. "I'm so, so sorry, Emmett."

"How did Edward even know?" I asked.

"Your mom told his dad," she said. "Edward said that Carlisle seemed pretty upset about it, actually."

I sighed. I was going to get it, I was sure. Rosalie would decapitate me – or castrate me, or something else involving the removal of important body parts – once she found me for not telling her about this.

Emmett McCarty; dead man walking.

"Yeah, he rescheduled my session with him this week," Alice said. "I wonder if that's what it's about."

I tried to think of how I would explain this one. It was a pretty big thing for me to keep from her. I could plead ignorance – "What? We're moving? Are you sure? I had no idea, I haven't been told yet!" But I somehow didn't think that would work.

"I _said_, I wonder if that's what it's about," Alice said, a bit louder.

I could tell the truth. That was a new thought. Just let her know that I wanted to enjoy as much time with her as possible before it became an issue, without it weighing us down.

"I _wonder_," Alice repeated, kicking me under the table, "if that's what it's about."

"Fuck, Alice, what was that for?" I asked, rubbing my shin.

"Honestly, Emmett, you don't get it, do you?" she huffed, flipping her bangs out of her eyes. "Listen, Carlisle's obviously down that your mom's moving. He doesn't want her to. You don't want to move, either. Neither of you can really convince your mom to stay on your own, but maybe if you worked together…" she trailed off, waving her hand for me to continue.

"Maybe we could convince her to stay?"

"_Right_."

"Will that even work?" I asked skeptically. Bella shrugged, but Alice nodded determinedly.

"I think it will," she said. "Carlisle's way too in love with your mom."

"He's known her all of a month," I pointed out. She rolled her eyes.

"And you've known Rosalie how long?"

Fair point.

"Fine, I assume you have a plan?" I asked, and Alice's smile grew wider. I had the sinking feeling I wasn't going to like this.

/

**RPOV**

I stood outside the gym after school for a full ten minutes before it occurred to me that Emmett wouldn't be going to wrestling practice anymore, having been kicked off of the team. I needed to talk to him, after what Bella had told me, but I hadn't seen him at all throughout the day. I cursed quietly, hurrying around the gym towards the student parking lot, scanning the rows for Emmett's Jeep.

Gone. He had already gone home, it seemed.

I made my way over to my own car, where Jasper was waiting for me.

"Bad day?" he asked.

"That obvious?" He nodded.

"Alice told me about Emmett moving," he said. I sighed. "You seriously knew nothing about it?"

"No, did you?" I snapped.

"Nope," he said, getting into the car when I unlocked the doors. "But I'm not sleeping with him, either."

"Shut up, Jasper," I said. He shrugged.

"So what are you going to do?"

"I have no idea," I admitted. "I want to talk to him before I do anything."

But when I pulled into our driveway, Emmett's Jeep wasn't next door. Where the hell was he?

As Jasper headed inside, I made my way over to Emmett's house, nerves mounting as I rang the bell. If Emmett wasn't home, and I had no idea where he was, there was only one other option for figuring out what was going on.

Ms. McCarty answered the door, looking surprised to see me, but not angry. I guess her catching Emmett and I in the kitchen Christmas morning had blown over somewhat.

"Rosalie," she said, smiling softly. "Emmett's not home yet."

"Oh, I know," I said, shuffling my feet. "I actually came to talk to you."

She stared at me for a moment as though trying to guess what I could possibly want, before nodding and stepping to the side.

"I guess you'd better come in, then. It's cold out," she said.

/

**EPOV**

Edward and Dr. Cullen lived in a large house in the backwoods of Forks, not that far from the field where Rosalie and I had first danced. Their house was large, with high, gleaming windows and an expanded garage. It seemed like a bit much for two people, to be honest. But then, I supposed it hadn't always been just them. Alice explained about the Cullen family on the way up.

Dr. Cullen's first wife and Edward's mom, Elizabeth, had died in a car wreck when Edward was eight. His younger sister had also been in the car, and had managed to hang on for a week before finally passing on as well. According to Alice, it was quite the scandal when it happened. I didn't see what was so scandalous about it, myself – to me, it sounded tragic. But, knowing Forks, I could see the vultures who lived here turning it into something like that.

Dr. Cullen didn't look surprised to see us, and showed us into the sitting room before excusing himself to finish something up in his office.

"Are you sure about this?" I asked Alice after he had left.

"Absolutely. Carlisle's a psychiatrist, so I think being open and honest would be the best option," she said assuredly.

"I just feel awkward, going to talk to my mom's… boyfriend. It seems strange."

"Carlisle's very understanding. Even if he can't help us, or even if I'm wrong and he doesn't want to, it still won't be that bad."

That did very little to soothe my nerves.

Dr. Cullen came back into the sitting room, taking the seat across from me and Alice. There was a moment of tense silence. Alice shifted nervously beside me. So she wasn't so sure of this? Great. There went my last bit of confidence in this idea.

"So to what do I owe this visit?" Dr. Cullen finally asked, smiling politely.

"Well," I started, suddenly unsure of what to say. Alice had only said to be honest. I didn't exactly have a script. "I kind of need your help with something."

"Oh?" Dr. Cullen asked and I nodded. "Well, I'd be happy to help, if I can. I'm afraid I'll need a little more information first though."

"Okay, you know Mom's planning on moving in June, right?" I started and he nodded, his polite smile fading. "Well, I know she's moving because she thinks that Forks isn't working out for us but, despite everything that's happened here, I like it. I'm happy here. And I know that she can be too, she's just afraid to wait for it to all pan out. And from what I hear, you're a huge part of what she likes about Forks. My mom doesn't go out, or see men; she hasn't since my dad died. So for her to uh… have you stay the night, that says a lot. I think she's just afraid, and decided to flee, and if she does, well, we'll all be unhappy."

I waited a minute after my small speech, watching him carefully. He looked almost sad, despite the smile that had reappeared on his face.

"I didn't think you were that happy about my relationship with your mother?" he asked. I winced inwardly, remembering the scene in the kitchen Christmas morning.

"I said a lot of things I shouldn't have… things that I had no place saying," I said.

"Your mother thinks you had a point," he said. "That was one of the reasons that I'm not enough to hold her here."

"But I was wrong," I said. Well, okay, I didn't really believe that. Fuck honesty. I didn't think I had been _wrong_, but circumstances can change any situation, right?

"Regardless, your mother has decided that being with me is not what's best for her. Or me," he said with a short laugh. "I'm afraid I don't know of any way that I can help you."

"You care about my mom, right?" I asked, and his smile disappeared again.

"I care about Esme more than I have cared about anyone… in a long time," he said sadly. "However, she doesn't believe it's best. And trapping someone in a situation they don't want to be in only breeds resentment and anger. I'd prefer to wait for her to decide it's right to be with me on her own time."

I couldn't argue with that. What he said made sense.

"Thank you for hearing me out then, Dr. Cullen," I said, standing. He nodded. Alice stood as well, staring from me to Dr. Cullen.

"How are you, Alice?" Dr. Cullen asked. She shook her head.

"Emmett's leaving," she said shortly, shrugging.

"I know," he said. She nodded, and then looked up, strangely calm given her behavior.

"I'll see you next week, Carlisle," she said, waving before leaving the sitting room. I followed after her, through the foyer and out to her car.

"Wait!" a voice shouted, and I turned to see Edward practically flying down the front steps.

"Hey man," I greeted him when he finally reached us.

"I heard what you were talking to my dad about," he said without preamble. "I think I can help you."

"How?" I asked, not letting myself get excited about the idea. Dr. Cullen had seemed pretty sure of his decision.

"Dad wants to keep Esme here, I'm sure of it. I'll work on it, convince him to help convince her," he said. It wasn't much, but it was something. "Trust me, I know my dad. I can do it."

"You really think so?" I asked. He nodded.

"But I need you to do something for me in return," he said.

"Name it."

"Well," he started, casting a furtive glance at Alice. She huffed and covered her ears tightly, turning away and humming as loudly as she could. I laughed. "You know what we talked about when we hung out with Jasper?" I stared at him blankly. "About Bella," he prompted.

"Oh, yeah, man, right," I said. I wasn't sure where this was going, but it sounded like it was either going to be bad, or just straight-up difficult.

"Well, I kind of need your help with… that."

I looked at him in horror. Was he really suggesting… Oh, hell no! I am Emmett Fucking McCarty, certifiable sexy bastard, one-hundred-percent man, and completely, unarguably _straight_.

"Dude, I can _not _give you experience in that department," I said. He rolled his eyes.

"No, not that! Gross." I shrugged. That was what it had sounded like to me. "I just need you to kind of help me figure out how to…"

"How to get some ass?" I asked, grinning. He nodded. "Deal. But I'm warning you, Cullen, if you fall through on your end, getting laid will be the _last _thing you ever have to worry about."

That's right, Emmett Fucking McCarty, plotting bastard and mother fucking pimp.

/

**RPOV**

"So you really are moving?" I asked, motioning to the boxes stacked in the living room. Ms. McCarty glanced at them.

"Well, those are boxes that still haven't been unpacked that I had been storing down in the basement, but yes, Rosalie, Emmett and I are moving by the end of June," she said softly. "It's just not right for us here."

"It's right for Emmett," I said automatically. "I mean, Emmett seems happy here," I quickly amended, realizing how rude I had sounded.

"I know you mean well, Rosalie, but I'm Emmett's mother, and I promise I've thought about this, especially with regard to him," she said, smiling gently. "Emmett has changed a lot since we moved here. He seems more reckless, more irresponsible. He's getting into fights and making bad decisions. I don't think this place is right for him."

"Ms. McCarty, there's been a lot going on, but it's not like it's normal life in Forks," I pleaded. "There will be rough spots anywhere you go, won't there?"

"Will you be anywhere we go?" she asked, no longer smiling. What… "Because honestly, Rosalie, I think you're a big part of the problem here."

/

**AN**: Long note, ahoy!

Don't hurt me. The standard plea.

As a note, **Nachos4Children** also served as my catch-phrase beta for this chapter, to catch any prime opportunities for "Emmett Fucking McCarty" that I may have missed. I've got a lot of notes from you guys that you've been missing that, so be sure to send her love. As always, check out her story, "Clementines", and the story we're collaborating on, "Asthenia". /shameless self-promotion

Uhhh. Oh! To those of you who follow me on Twitter and got these gems as a teaser for the future storyline: "The school – the kids have gone crazy," Carlisle explained hurriedly. "Something about Rosalie and Royce and… it's all just crazy." And, "How do you like it? Huh? How the FUCK do you like it, you asshole?" Royce was being held back by Edward, blood dripping down his face. – Okay, yeah, to clarify, that part was scrapped and will _never_ happen. Good to go? Okay.

As for Aro, Felix, Demitri, etc: In Round Fifteen's rough draft, Alice had Royce's car stolen in order to provide a distraction when Royce showed up at the Hale's Christmas party. In order to do that, she called in a favour from them. That was their original introduction into the story, but I wound up scrapping it. So I know that they appeared kind of suddenly in the story, but just keep in mind, they're really just my tool to achieve the correct ends. Not much more. No worries. Well… maybe just a bit more. We'll see. ;)

Please, please review! :D


	20. Hiatus End and New Chapter Announcement

Hey, guys! I know it's been nearly two and a half years since this story - or any of them, really - updated. I hope that you will excuse me for my hiatus. I just want to let everyone know that I am back, finally, and I am working on Round Twenty right now! So, if you want to catch up or reread before the new chapter, now would be the time to do that! :D

I look forward to seeing each of you in a day or two when the new chapter comes up! If you're reading this, sincerely, from the bottom of my heart, thanks so much for hanging in there. And one more time, please forgive me for the grievously long time between updates. I'm looking forward to getting this thing rolling again!

And for those of you who read this when I had posted it from my phone and couldn't capitalize or use any punctuation or line breaks, bless you dear souls!

love, Anna.


	21. Round Twenty

**Not Without a Fight  
**Annaleise Marie

**Round Twenty**

**AN**: Oh gosh, guys, it's been so long! I bet you thought I was never coming back, eh? Well, thanks to **Hans153**, who asked me any time I reappeared on Twitter over the last two years, and **ReneeFF**, who immediately offered her assistance as soon as I announced my intent to return to writing, I've been jogged back into the flow of this story! You may want to go back and reread. I had to, and I'm the author. But it reminded me how much I loved writing this, so it's all good.

Let me recap for those of you who are understandably like, "Reread 80,000 words? FUCK NO BRING ON THE NEW CHAPTER!": When last we left our enigmatic cast of players, they were in the middle of something of a roller coaster of emotions and mind-fuckery. Esme's flight reaction has kicked in to the max and she's like, "Yeah, no, sorry, we're peacing out in six months," BASICALLY JUST RUINING EVERYONE'S LIFE FOREVER, but she's like, "Sorry, I'm the mom." Emmett goes to Carlisle for help in preventing the move and Carlisle politely declines but Edward's like, "No, bro, I got this. But you've gotta get me laid first," and Emmett's just like, "Okay but don't make it weird." Emmett and Rosalie find themselves with another fight brewing as Rosalie finds out about the move – but not from Emmett – and Esme accuses her of being "part of the problem" with Emmett's behavior, which was kind of a bitch move but really, you know, maybe she has a point. Whatever, I'll always side with Rose.

How did I leave this story at such a pivitol point? I'm pretty much ashamed of myself. Well, I'm back now, so onward!

I own a new PS3 which lends to me watching WAY MORE NETFLIX THAN HAS EVER BEEN NECESSARY FOR ANYTHING, but I do not own Twilight. I know, two years, you would think I had made some progress on that front. Sadly, no. Stephanie Meyer's holding on tight you guys.

x

**EPOV**

My first meeting with the guidance counselor was to take place immediately after classes the day after Alice and I had gone to see Dr. Cullen. _Immediately_ had been underlined three times on the note from the office, so I figured they were probably pretty serious about that. I also thought that I would have rather drank a full cup of warm camel spit than go. Not that I had any sort of problem with counseling, I just couldn't fathom what it could possibly achieve in this situation. The incident with Royce had been completely singular and reliant on circumstance – I wasn't generally a violent, or even angry person. I was Emmett Fucking McCarty, the human fucking teddy bear.

But I would have to somehow convince the counselor of that. Without exposing Rosalie's secret. That was the catch.

I hadn't seen Rosalie yesterday. When I had finally arrived back from Edward's, her car was gone, and it didn't return all night. I know because I was watching from my window. Because as we've already established, I'm fucking nosey like that. She was in school today, but with this appointment I wouldn't get to see her until this evening. If she would even talk to me, that is.

I should have told her about the move. But I didn't want that hanging over us just yet. Not when we still had six months to be together.

Where was Alice? Usually she appeared out of nowhere when I needed advice, like she had some sort of sixth sense about it. But she didn't appear, and before I knew it, the counselor was opening her door and gesturing for me to come in.

X

**RPOV**

Ms. McCarty's words had hit me like a swift kick to the gut the night before, and my first reaction had been to be angry and defensive about her accusations. But the more I thought about it, the more I wondered if she didn't have a point. When he had first moved here, Emmett had been so carefree, always joking, laughing. What was it he had said that first night?

"_I've come to realize that there are very few things in life that are serious, or in any way permanent. All the rest, if you stress out about them, you're just making yourself miserable._"

"_Don't you feel better when you laugh instead of getting angry or upset?_"

But now… He was losing sleep, fighting, getting suspended, and there I was at the very core of each and every issue.

It was never my intention to be a part of the problem. I thought that we were happy, despite everything, but how could he be happy like this? It went against his nature, his very philosophy on life. I had never wanted to hurt him. Now, it looked like hurting him may be the only chance at making this right.

I thought about this all the way to Insight. My phone kept ringing, the display telling me Alice had called me thirty times in as many minutes. I ignored the call again. I couldn't talk to her now. Not her, not anyone, or I would lose my resolve.

X

**EPOV**

Mrs. Robert's office was small and cramped, squeezed into the back corner of B hall. The inner wall didn't quite match the others, suggesting that her office had been shaved off of the science lab next door as an afterthought. Two ancient-looking leather chairs faced her desk, their arm rests peeling pitifully.

It did not look like the sort of place that catered to emotional or mental health to me, but what did I know? I hadn't been to any sort of therapy since Dad died, and then I had seen an overly-cheerful woman in her late twenties in Nashville. That office had bright-colored furniture and an always-stocked candy jar. She wanted me to draw pictures to express my feelings. I thought I was a little too old for that, but she was nice, and she smelled like flowers.

Mrs. Roberts' office smelled faintly of dust and mildew.

"So, Emmett," she began after we had sat in silence for a few minutes. I guess she had been waiting for me to bare my soul on my own, because her lips had pressed together in a tight line the longer I remained silent. "Why are we here?"

"The wrestling match last week got a little out of hand," I said, shrugging.

"Tell me about that," she said, nodding as she made a note in the file open on her desk.

"I'm sure you have all of the details already," I said, nodding at the file. She gave me a tight-lipped smile and shut it, dropping her pen and leaning back in her chair and studying me over her glasses.

"Then maybe you'd like to talk about what caused it?" she asked calmly. I rolled my eyes. I had expected more mental gymnastics. Well, at least she wasn't going all Freud on me. I'd hate to think I had beaten the shit out of Royce because I was secretly attracted to my mother or something.

"Look, Mrs. Roberts, I'm not a violent person by nature, if that's what you're trying to decide. I couldn't typically give any fucks at all – pardon my language – about petty feuds or stupidity like that. But suffice it to say that Royce King hurt someone very close to me. He deserved to feel some of it himself," I said, shrugging.

"What could Royce King have done to someone else to make _you_ resort to such extreme actions if you, as you say, are not a violent person?" she asked.

"That's not my story to tell," I said, borrowing Alice's words.

"But it was yours to act upon?"

"No," I admitted, shrugging. "I shouldn't have done it. It solved nothing and caused a whole new slew of problems, believe me. But you asked what caused it."

"What sort of problems?" she prompted. I glanced at the clock by the door. I had been there for fifteen minutes. That seemed like more than enough.

"With all due respect, Mrs. Roberts, I agreed to meet with you to satisfy Ms. Greene and the disciplinary board. But given that I don't make a habit of violence or anything like that, I think I have satisfied the requirement. You have a good evening."

I stood up, ignoring her protests, and left the office. That had been relatively painless. It probably wasn't what the disciplinary board had meant when they said I had to meet with her, but short of telling her about Royce and Rosalie, I had done all that I could.

I pulled out my phone as I walked to the Jeep. I had ten missed calls from Alice. I almost laughed. I guess her sixth sense had worked, just not quite in time.

I hit the button to call her back, and it barely rang once before she answered.

"Emmett! Oh my god, finally! Have you heard from her?" she asked, her voice shrill.

"Calm down, Alice. Who?" I asked.

"Rosalie! Didn't you listen to my messages?"

"Given that there are ten of them I figured it would be quicker to just call you back," I said, taking out my cigarettes and lighting one as Alice launched into explanation.

"Jasper and I were going to see an early movie after school, but he was late so I checked Latitude to see if he was on his way—"

"Latitude?" I interrupted her, confused.

"This app that shows your friend's locations. Or, the location of their phone, at least. Don't interrupt, though!" she chastised. "Anyway, I was trying to find Jasper, but instead I saw Rosalie headed toward La Push."

"So?" I asked. I mean, I hadn't known that she was going to La Push, and this wasn't exactly ideal beach weather, but I didn't see what the huge emergency was.

"Well, we're not really welcome in La Push. There was this whole big thing with Bella and a few of the Quileutes and… It's a long story. But the point is, Rose wouldn't go to La Push. At least not alone. And the only thing between us and La Push is—"

"Insight," I finished for her, everything clicking into place.

"She stopped there a half hour ago and her icon hasn't moved. She won't answer her phone," Alice finished. My stomach clenched.

"I'll pick you up in five minutes," I said.

"I'm ready," she answered, sounding tense.

X

**RPOV**

"Why should I help you?" Royce asked, his eyes narrowed.

"Because if you don't, I'll personally make sure you spend the next five years in jail," I said, my voice sounding braver than I felt.

"Please, Rose," Royce scoffed, smirking at me. I gritted my teeth. "If you had thought to preserve any proof, you would have acted on it long ago."

"Maybe," I conceded. "But are you sure your reputation can stand up to a scandal like that? Even if I don't win, there will be plenty of people who believe me. Is that what you want everyone to think when they look at you? _Rapist_?"

Royce's eyes flashed and I resisted the urge to step back. I held my ground, my jaw set.

"What do I need to do?" he asked grudgingly.

I looked at my phone. Ten more missed calls from Alice. Two from Emmett. And one text.

"_Are you ok? Why r u in Insight? With E. Coming to find u. – A._"

I opened Latitude and turned off the GPS.

X

**EPOV**

A half hour later, Alice and I reached the Insight border. Alice checked her phone again.

"Latitude still puts her at Royce's place," she confirmed, sounding worried.

I felt like I was going to throw up, getting sicker and sicker with every passing minute that she was with _him_. Each second a new image flitted into my head of what he could be doing to her. Each unanswered call and text turned paranoia into conviction.

I was fucking terrified. I couldn't let anything happen to her. Ever again.

Beside me, Alice was ashen, her eyes watery. She looked every bit as sick and scared as me.

"Maybe you should wait here," I said when we pulled up in front of the house. Rosalie's car wasn't in sight, but I couldn't decide if that was a good sign or not.

Alice shot me a warning look and unbuckled her seatbelt in answer.

We hurried to the door, which opened before we even reached it. Royce stepped out, closing the door behind him and leaning on the facing, smirking at us.

"So now it's not enough to beat me up in public, you've come to harass me at my home?" he asked snidely. My fists clenched at my side.

"Where's Rosalie?" Alice demanded. Royce raised an eyebrow.

"She left about twenty minutes ago," he said, shrugging.

"If you've hurt her—" I started, but Royce held up his hands calmly.

"Hey, man, she came looking for me," he said.

"Bullshit," I said through clenched teeth.

"Maybe you should ask her," Royce said, shrugging. "Regardless, I'm not done with you, and you should leave my property now."

I opened my mouth to argue, but Alice pulled on my shirt sleeve, holding her phone up to me. Rosalie's icon was showing that she was back in Forks.

"I don't know why it froze here," Alice said quietly, her brow furrowed. "But he must be telling the truth. She had to have left awhile ago."

"I don't know what you did to make her come here in the first place, but you never contact her again, you understand?" I hissed, narrowing my eyes at Royce. He just laughed.

"Maybe you should consider what _you've _done," he said coldly. "Whether I baited her or not – I didn't, for the record, not that you'll believe it – but why didn't she go to you?"

He went back inside the house, leaving me to glare after him.

"Don't listen to him," Alice said quietly. "He's just trying to get to you."

I nodded, but as we walked back to the Jeep, I couldn't help wondering if Royce had a point.

X

**RPOV**

My phone rang shortly after I got back to Forks, Royce's number lighting up the display.

"Hello?" I answered dully.

"He just left," Royce said. "I don't know what you're hoping to achieve, but even after I implied that you're getting back at him—"

"You what?" I asked, my stomach dropping. "That wasn't part of the plan."

"No? My bad. I guess you shouldn't have tried to use me then," Royce answered smugly. "Good luck, Rose. And hey, if it doesn't work out with gorilla boy, feel free to look me up again."

"When hell freezes over," I answered, but the phone beeped to signal that he had already hung up.

X

**AN**: Oh boy. What a chapter to come back on, huh? And not at all funny. Maybe I've lost my funny, you guys. Or maybe this chapter just didn't have the potential to be funny? I'm hoping that's it.

But what was Rose trying to do? If what Royce said wasn't part of her plan, then what was? And why involve Royce? I had hoped to resolve some things with this chapter, but I guess I only created more questions. Le sigh.

Anyway, I'd love to hear from you guys! We had such lovely little chats before the hiatus. Let's get back to that! I'll be replying to every review, so please feel free to ask questions, if you have them.

The next chapter is already in the works, so I hope to see you all soon!


	22. Round Twenty-One

**Not Without a Fight  
**Annaleise Marie

**Round Twenty-One**

**AN**: I guess it's a good thing I let go of the idea of limiting this story to twenty chapters, huh? That would have been a terrible place to end things.

After being away for so long, I was pretty impressed with the response to last chapter. I mean, not a HUGE amount of feedback, but I had a few people add this to their favorites and alerts, and the hit count was amazing for only around forty-eight hours! Which is awesome! :D Thanks to all of you! I thought for sure everyone – or nearly everyone – would have abandoned ship by now. I can't thank you guys enough for sticking around, and to my new readers, welcome! For being so awesome, have another chapter! I had hoped to post it last night, but well, two days is still pretty speedy, yes?

Let's light this candle, shall we?

I own a Citizen Eco-Drive watch because my dad doesn't know me _at all _but it's nice anyway. I do not, however, own Twilight. Stephanie Meyer, y'all.

X

**EPOV**

I didn't go to see Rosalie when we got back to Forks, despite Alice's urging. I didn't seek her out at school or after for the rest of the week, and I didn't look for her over the weekend, either. For her part, she didn't call.

I needed to figure out what had happened. Of course, the easiest way to do that would probably be to talk to her. I needed to talk to her anyway, about the move. I knew that, logically, and what Royce had said led me to believe that the move was at the center of this whole mess.

But fuck that. She was hiding shit, too. She had to know that we had gone after her to Insight. Alice had texted her when we were on the way and told her as much. But Rosalie had never replied, and Alice had never managed to get a straight answer out of her.

I hadn't asked. Truth be told, I was fucking terrified of what the answer would be.

I stopped sleeping again. By Monday I had achieved a near-zombie state.

"This is exactly what I was talking about," Mom said on Monday morning, setting her coffee cup unnecessarily hard, bringing me back to the present.

"What?" I asked, confused. My vision blurred as I tried to focus on her face, so I looked back down at my untouched toast.

"You're not sleeping. You have no appetite. You seem depressed and angry all of the time. You're getting into fights," she said, ticking off her points on her fingers. "It's just like I told that Hale girl. Ever since we moved here—"

"What?" I asked again. Something was tickling my mind, but I couldn't make it form into a complete thought.

"Ever since we came here, and you started seeing her, you've changed. And not for the better. She's a bad influence on you and—"

"You said that to Rosalie?" I asked. It was like the fatigue-induced fog was being blown from my mind.

"It's true," Mom insisted. "So when she came over here, asking about the move—"

"When?" I demanded. Mom looked startled. "When did you say all of this to her?"

"I don't know. Wednesday, I think?" she said. "Emmett, you know—"

"Christ, Mom," I grumbled, standing up and gathering my books and keys.

"Emmett—" she began again.

"I have to deal with this. I'll see you after school," I called back shortly as I rushed to the door.

I stepped outside, turning towards the Hale's driveway. Rosalie was backing out. I rushed across the grass and managed to reach the car just as she shifted from reverse to drive and tapped on the window.

She looked startled to see me but then rolled down the window.

"We need to talk," I said. She hesitated, biting her lip for a moment, then nodded and reached over to open the door.

"Get in," she said.

X

The ride to school was quiet, neither of us really knowing how to begin. Rosalie pulled into her normal parking spot, letting the engine idle. She was staring down at her hands, twisting her ring nervously. Finally, she cleared her throat.

"I guess you know that I know about the move," she said quietly. I nodded.

"I guess you know that I know about Royce," I said in return. She nodded. "What were you doing there?" She shrugged. "Don't give me that, babe. You had to have had a plan."

She took a shaky breath, opened her mouth and closed it again. I sighed, slouching down further in my seat. We were quiet for another moment.

"Did he do anything to you?" I asked finally. More than anything, that possibility had been torturing me since Thursday.

"No," she said, shaking her head. "I went to ask him for a favor."

"What favor could you possibly need from Royce?" I asked, dumbfounded. Of all of the possible scenarios I had imagined, I had never considered anything close to that.

"I… I wanted him to make you break up with me," she said. My heart seemed to stop in my chest. I couldn't think, couldn't breathe. "I thought that if you thought I had gone to see him, voluntarily, after everything…"

"You want to break up?" I finally managed to ask, struggling to keep my voice even.

"No," she said, her voice breaking. "But I thought it would be easier if you broke up with me. Maybe it would hurt less for you. But we shouldn't be together. I talked to your mom, and she said that I'm at the center of all of your problems. I thought you were happy, but she was right. You've changed so much since we got together, and so much has happened, and I'm right at the center of all of it. I never wanted to hurt you. So I thought that if you broke up with me you could go back to how things were before. And then maybe your mom wouldn't feel like you had to move, and you could stay… And maybe, some day, we could try again, and get it right."

I took a minute to absorb this information. It made a twisted sort of sense, but at the same time…

"That is the worst fucking plan I have ever heard," I said. I felt the ridiculous urge to laugh, but I fought it. "I mean, seriously, that was the absolute _worst_ plan ever."

We were quiet for a moment. Rosalie didn't look at me.

"My mom was wrong. And you were wrong, for that matter," I said. "I may seem different in some ways, but I'm never happier than I'm with you. Everything my mom talked about, everything that you think you've caused, they're all because I care about you so much, because I'm so happy with you. So when were fighting, or when something hurts you, it hurts me."

Rosalie finally looked up at me, her eyes searching mine. I searched for the words I wanted to say, tried to force myself to say them. It was ridiculous. It shouldn't be this hard to say it.

But, because Rosalie has always had the bigger balls in this relationship, she beat me to it.

"I love you," she said quietly. My heart gave an extra-hard beat. Rosalie loved me. Rosalie Hale loved _me_, Emmett Fucking McCarty. I didn't even have a title to go with that one.

Emmett Fucking McCarty, loved by Rosalie Hale.

That would work.

"I love you too," I said softly, taking her hand and running my thumb over her ring. "Don't ever try to lose me again."

"I won't," she said. "But I don't think I can stop it, either."

"Edward thinks he may have a plan," I said. "And I need your help to pull it off."

X

**RPOV**

"You have got to be kidding me," I said when Emmett had finished explaining, raising an eyebrow at him. "Edward is trading his help for sex with Bella?"

"When you say it like that it sounds like I'm pimping her out to him," he said, laughing as he searched his jacket and finally pulled out his cigarettes.

"Because you are," I pointed out. "Bella isn't like that."

"Like what?" he asked, laughing.

"Like… us," I said, shrugging. "She's like, super-pure. She blushes like mad when she just talks about kissing Edward."

"So she's a private person. She's still human," Emmett said, shrugging. "Anyway, we're not going to make her do anything she doesn't want to do. I'm just helping Edward set up a situation so that _if _it happens, it's all special and shit."

"Well, you do have a talent for that, I guess." Emmett lit his cigarette and then grinned at me widely.

"I aim to please," he said.

"Hmm. So you just want me to talk to her?"

"Yeah. Find out what she wants her first time to be like. Candles, the beach, a trampoline, I don't give a fuck," he said, shrugging.

"A trampoline?" I asked. He shrugged.

"Don't knock it. Although I wouldn't really recommend it either," he said.

"Doesn't it seem a little sketchy? All of us collaborating to take Bella's virginity?" I asked. He wrinkled his nose.

"Only when you keep referring to it in shady terms like that." He exhaled heavily, blowing smoke out the window. "Look, it's like I said, I'm just helping Edward set up the scene. Bella doesn't have to do anything. For all I care, they can go back to their century-old couple ways and spend the whole night watching Audrey Hepburn or reciting Jane Austen or whatever the fuck it is they do on the regular."

I laughed. Hopefully Bella's idea of a good first time wouldn't involve a trampoline. There were just some mental images I didn't need.

X

Breaching the subject of someone else's virginity – and how they would prefer to lose it – is even harder than you would imagine. First period was half over and I still hadn't managed to breach a subject more serious than the weather or Charlie's borderline obsession with baseball with Bella.

"So how was your weekend?" I asked, hoping that would steer the conversation towards Edward. Bella shrugged.

"It was nice. Edward and I went to dinner and a movie in Port Angeles," she said, smiling.

"Romantic," I said. _Boring_, I couldn't help but think. It seemed to be the same story every week when it came to Edward and Bella.

"Well, we were celebrating. Our college letters came on Saturday," she said.

College letters. I couldn't believe I had forgotten about them. With all of the excitement of the last few months, and Emmett's impending move in June, I hadn't even thought about what would happen that far in the future. But the truth was, our first term of college would start in less than eight months. I hadn't checked the mail over the weekend.

"Oh? So what's the verdict?"

"We both got into Washington State," she said happily.

"Going to college together?" I said carefully. "Of course, you've been together since the dawn of time, so it shouldn't be surprising."

"Yeah," Bella said, biting her lip. I wanted to bang my head against the desk. How did Emmett ever think I was going to get this out of Bella. Bella just wasn't the sort who talked about this sort of thing! Not in reference to herself, anyway.

"You and Emmett seem to be doing pretty well, all things considered," she remarked. I blinked.

"Yeah. He actually told me he loved me this morning," I said, smiling. Bella raised her eyebrows.

"Isn't it kind of soon?" she asked. I saw my opening and attacked.

"Well, everything with our relationship has been kind of fast," I said, smiling sheepishly. "So I guess it kind of fits. It just feels right with us, you know?" Bella nodded, her brow furrowing. "You okay?"

"Yeah. It's just… Well, without too much detail that I really don't need," she disclaimed, looking extremely uncomfortable. "What was it like? You know… the first time?" I laughed and she blushed harder. "I mean, it's just that I've never… you know."

"Yeah. Well, I guess it's probably different for everyone," I said. "With Emmett, it was really sweet and just… I don't know, kind of perfect. It had been snowing, and he took me out to this clearing and put on a slow song and asked me to dance with him, and it just seemed like the right time, I guess."

"Your first time was in the Jeep?" she asked, her eyes wide.

_No, my first time was being held down on a dining room table while I begged for it to stop_. I shook my head, forcibly clearing the thoughts. Emmett had been a clean slate. Everything before didn't count, didn't matter.

"No," I said. "We went back to his place. Anyway, it was pretty perfect. I'm surprised you and Edward haven't done it yet, though."

"Edward wants it to be special," she said, blushing. "I mean, we've done other things, but it's like this is supposed to be some big grand gesture."

"It should be," I said. Every girl's first time should be special. It shouldn't be scary, or rushed, or… I had to stop thinking this way. "How do you imagine it?"

Bella blushed again and shook her head.

"Oh, come on," I wheedled. "You can tell me."

"It just seems kind of personal."

"No one here but us," I said, gesturing to the empty office. It really had been quite the slow morning.

"I don't know," she said, biting her lip. "I guess I've never really thought about it. I mean, I guess I'd want something like your first time, if things like that were scripted or whatever. But with Edward, you know, we've been together for two years, and I love him and trust him, so it's not really necessary or whatever."

It was like chewing nails, trying to get anything out of Bella.

"But… Yeah, a sweet story like yours would be nice, I guess," she said after a pause, smiling slightly. "If I got to pick, you know." She shuffled the papers on the desk in front of her, clearing her throat. "Anyway, I'd better get these forms copied before Ms. Cope gets back."

She hurried from the office and I slumped down in my chair. I felt physically drained. Emmett didn't know the half of it when he had called Bella a 'private person'. All of that, and I still only had a half answer. It would have to be good enough, though, because I got the distinct impression that it was the most I was going to get out of her.

Edward had better have a brilliant fucking plan to win Carlisle's support, is all I'm saying.

X

"You mean I'm going to have to plan how another guy is going to take his girlfriend's virginity?" Emmett asked, grinning. I had just relayed my conversation with Bella to him at lunch.

"It was the best I could get out of her. She said that it didn't have to be anything special, but a 'sweet story like ours' would be nice," I said, shrugging and poking the questionable spaghetti on my cafeteria tray. "I figure it'd be pretty easy for you, after what you came up with for us."

"I wasn't trying to get you in bed at that point," he groaned, scrubbing his face in frustration. I smirked at him. "Okay, I was. It's pretty much all I was thinking about every waking moment. Still is. But I mean that that night really was only planned as a date."

"See? No pressure," I said. "Just plan a date for them."

"I knew you wanted to be asked to dance. I don't know anything about Bella," he explained. "And I get the feeling that if I just copy our date, it'll just seem like a rip-off."

"Fair point," I said, racking my brain for anything that might help. "Let's see… She's ridiculously clumsy. She's a straight-A student. She wants to become a teacher. She became a bit of an adrenaline junkie for awhile, but it seems like she grew out of it. She likes to read. Based on the books she reads I'd probably call her a classic romantic, but she's so damned private…"

Emmett sighed and pushed his tray away. I pushed it back.

"If you not eating is one of the things your mom is worried about, then you should eat," I pointed out and he grudgingly picked up his fork.

"I don't see you eating it," he pointed out.

"No one's worried about me."

"That's not entirely true," he countered. I raised my eyebrows. "Look, I get what you were trying to do by going to Royce, or what you think you were trying to do, or whatever, but doesn't it seem a bit strange to you?"

"I'm not worried about Royce," I said dismissively. It was true. I didn't think he'd try to hurt me as long as Emmett was around, and I knew that Royce had only applied to schools on the east coast, so he wouldn't even be around himself much longer.

"You should be," Emmett said softly. I felt my anger flare.

"I'm not going to spend my life being afraid of Royce," I snapped.

"I'm not saying you should. But he's proved he's dangerous, and you should be careful," he said. "I just don't want you to get hurt again. And I don't think you're dealing with it particularly well to begin with."

"_I'm _not dealing with it well?" I asked incredulously. The last time I checked, I wasn't the one who had been suspended for beating the shit out of him. Emmett sighed, shaking his head.

"I don't want to fight about this," he said, shaking his head. "I'm just worried about you, is all. You can't tell me you don't still think about it all the time. It doesn't just go away."

"I'm fine," I said firmly. Emmett stared at me hard for a moment and I decided to change the subject back. The problem with Bella and Edward was way easier to deal with. "Anyway, I don't understand why Edward doesn't just take her to prom and get laid the old-fashioned way, like every other teenager in the history of the world."

"Prom?" Emmett asked, furrowing his brow. "When is that?"

"April," I said, shrugging. Prom wasn't really my kind of thing, so I hadn't given it much thought.

"That's like three months away. I guess he's getting impatient," Emmett said with a grin.

"How romantic."

"Human, like I said," Emmett said. I rolled my eyes.

"Okay, so what are you going to do, then?" I asked. He shrugged, shaking his head.

"No idea. But I need Dr. Cullen's help, so I've gotta think of something," he said.

"Hey, what're you guys talking about?" Alice set her tray down beside me, Jasper following closely behind her.

"Nothing—" I started to say, but Emmett answered before I had the word out.

"Trying to get Edward and Bella to do the horizontal tango," he said.

"Really?" Alice asked, wrinkling her nose. "Isn't that something they should be… handling on their own?"

"Thank you," I said, looking at Emmett pointedly.

"Edward is completely incapable of figuring this out for himself," Jasper said, shrugging. "I mean, he's a good guy, and he's ridiculously smart, but he's got it so built up in his head as this big important thing that he's pretty much paralyzed himself."

"It _is_ a big important thing," Alice argued.

"Yeah, but it's not like it has to be some big production. It's a natural part of life," Jasper pointed out.

"Oh yeah, nature man?" Alice asked, grinning. "You want to tell them about our first time?"

"Alice," Jasper said warningly. "Anyway, are you making any progress?" he asked. I got the feeling he was trying hard to steer the conversation away from the subject of him and Alice.

"Absolutely nothing. Other than that Bella wouldn't mind a 'sweet story' sort of deal with it," Emmett grumbled.

"How very specific," Alice said. "Oh! You could try recreating their first date!"

"How do you even remember their first date?" Jasper asked.

"It was cute, and Bella and I were comparing notes because you and I had just been on our first date," Alice explained. "Anyway, he tried to be all fancy and took her to this coat-and-tie type of restaurant in Port Angeles for dinner, and afterwards they were walking on the pier and well, you know Bella. She fell smack in the water, and Edward went in after her and pulled her back to shore. And then they had their first kiss."

"It's a cute story, but I don't know if throwing her off of a Port Angeles pier would really get her in the mood," Jasper pointed out. He had a point.

"I didn't mean an _exact_ recreation. Maybe dinner and a walk along the shore or something," Alice said, pouting.

"Beach sex," Jasper mused. "Pretty ambitious for a first time."

"All that sand," Alice muttered mournfully.

"Thanks, you guys have been absolutely no help," Emmett grumbled, idly poking his food. I nudged his tray pointedly and he took a bite of his spaghetti. "I don't think a lack of appetite is responsible for my lack of interest in eating this," he said, grimacing.

X

**EPOV**

When I got home from school I was still no closer to a plan than I was when I had started. Maybe I'd just suggest some candles and sappy music and let a good old standby do the job. Girls seemed to like that shit.

Mom was in the living room when I came home and I steeled myself when she spotted me and stood up, but she was smiling.

"Your college letters came in," she announced. "Penn State, Virginia Tech, George Mason, University of Baltimore, and Johns Hopkins."

I walked over and took the envelopes numbly. I couldn't believe I hadn't even thought of this. When I applied to colleges, I was living in Maryland, so I hadn't even considered applying on the west coast.

No matter which school I had been accepted to, I would be moving this summer.

X

**AN**: Something. Has. To. Get. Resolved. How do you guys put up with me?

Well, I guess I don't have a ton to say about this chapter, so I'll just turn it over to you guys! Thoughts, comments, questions? I appreciate and reply to all!

Also I've realized that my chapters are a LOT shorter than they used to be. I promise that will change as I get more into the swing of writing again, so please bear with me. :D This chapter is almost twice as long as the last, so, progress, right?

Also, also, I was considering putting up previews for future chapters on my livejournal, the way I do for my HP fics. Would anyone be interested in that? Let me know. The interest in it will determine whether I bother to do it. :3


	23. Round Twenty-Two

**Not Without a Fight  
**Annaleise Marie

**Round Twenty-Two**

**AN**: I forgot to mention in the last few chapters that I still don't use a beta reader. So of course, any mistakes in my story are mine alone. I don't use one because I can get you chapters quicker if I don't have to work with someone else, and my mistakes are pretty minimal, but if I ever post anything that just _does not make sense_ and you think it may be a mistype, please let me know and I'll fix/clarify it. Thanks. :D

Also, this chapter came with the realization that I have not written a real lemon in something like two years which led to such gems on my Twitter such as, "I just realized I haven't written a lemon in two years, either, and I AM LOSING MY FUCKING MIND GUYS! HOW DO YOU EVEN SEX IDEK OMG" and, "Why is it not acceptable for lemons in a multi-chapter story with plot to begin simply 'Emmett mauled her like a fucking bear'?" Along that line, if you enjoy watching authors spaz over their work since we make it look so _effortless _here (now isn't that laughable), feel free to follow me on Twitter. I pretty much spaz 24/7, and I love interacting with my readers. I also recommend following **Hans153** and **HoudinisBox **(FFn: **Nachos4Children**) as they are both friendly, fantastically humorous people and excellent writers.

Also, on the subject, if you are not 18 or legal age wherever the fuck you come from, I ABSOLUTELY DO NOT WANT TO KNOW. WE ARE ALL GOING TO PRETEND YOU AREN'T READING THIS, AREN'T WE? You know the drill.

X

**EPOV**

Rosalie and I sat on her bed facing each other, our legs crossed, eleven college letters spread out between us. Rosalie's six, and my five. Eleven different school crests.

"You know, it doesn't really matter what they say," Rosalie said quietly. "We didn't apply to any of the same schools. So no matter what…" she trailed off, her eyes darting up to meet mine. I nodded. Neither of us had said it, but it hung over us, the knowledge that for either of us to move further in our lives, we would also have to move apart. It was no longer just a question of whether my mom would move or not.

"We can get through this, right?" she asked. I just looked at her. Rosalie was a lot of firsts for me, as jaded as I had thought I was on all matters of romance and relationships, but I couldn't really promise that we could get through a long-distance relationship. When I moved before, it had always been the automatic end of everything. No questions.

I had no doubt I could be faithful to her, but could I withstand being in a half of a relationship, from the other side of the country? Having her, being hers, but never being able to see her, hold her? I had never tried. I didn't know.

"It's a year," I said. "At that point, one of us could transfer."

Rosalie nodded and took a deep breath. I reached for the first envelope and she followed suit. Virginia Tech for me, University of Washington for her.

We opened the envelopes, unfolding the letters.

"We are pleased to inform you…" Rosalie read off, looking up at me.

"We regret to inform you…" I read in turn, smiling wryly and flipping the paper around to show her the blatant rejection.

"Their loss," Rosalie said, shrugging. We each picked up a new letter. Seattle University and Penn State.

"We regret to inform you…" Rosalie read, shrugging. "It was like, my third choice anyway."

"We are pleased to inform you," I read, grinning. "Excellent."

"Not a bad school, for three thousand miles away," Rosalie agreed wryly.

We continued in this way, with me being accepted into Penn State, George Mason, and University of Baltimore, and Rose getting in to Washington State, University of California, and Arizona State University.

"Not bad choices," I muttered.

"No combination of schools less than three thousand miles apart," she pointed out. I smiled.

"It's quite a while before we have to worry about that, though," I said, trying to smile at her. She nodded, shifting to lay on her side.

"I know," she said, sighing. "It's just hard to think about it."

I reached over and brushed a strand of hair from her face, tucking it behind her ear.

"We'll get through it." The promise that had been so hard to make moments before came forth freely now. "We'll get through it," I repeated, more to strengthen my resolve than anything. "We have to. I love you too much to lose you."

She sighed, letting her eyes close as I ran my fingers through her hair. I cupped the back of her head, gently pulling her towards me as I leaned forward to kiss her softly.

Oh _fuck_. It had only been about a week since I had last had her, but with all of the tension going on it may as well have been two years. That simple kiss set me on fire faster than I would have thought possible. I pulled away and grinned, grabbing her wrist and pulling as I leaned back until she was over me, her body pressed against mine.

She slid up to meet my lips with her own again, sliding her body against mine, and I felt my cock twitch. I groaned into her mouth, my hands moving to slide under the hem of her shirt, running along the smooth skin of her back. She arched into the caress, causing her to grind against me. We both gasped and she sat up, pulling me with her.

She pulled on my shirt and I raised my arms, helping her to pull it off quickly before I returned the favor, ridding her of her shirt and then bra. I drew her against me, relishing the feeling of her bare skin against mine, and trailed kisses from her jaw down her neck and to her chest. She gasped again when I reached her breasts, kneading one gently in my hand as my mouth found the other, licking and sucking, reveling in the taste of her skin.

She pressed against me harder and I let my teeth graze her nipple, grinning against the tortured skin as she cried out, her hands squeezing my shoulders hard.

My hands moved to the button on her jeans, deftly undoing it and the zipper, sliding my hands under the waistband and pushing them down with her underwear. I moved, pushing her back until she way laying under me, her head at the foot of the bed, and pulled her pants off. Finally, she was completely naked, spread for me, her body flushed.

I knelt between her legs, kissing from her chest down her stomach, pausing to flick my tongue in her belly button, causing her to squirm.

"Emmett," she hissed, her voice pleading as I continued downward, kissing the inside of her thigh. I grinned up at her, keeping eye contact as I kissed further up her leg, slowly drawing toward her glistening center. "Please," she gasped, her eyes glued to mine.

I blew gently against her slit and she threw her head back, crying out in surprise, her back arching and her hips bucking. I fucking loved how responsive she was, how much I could affect her without even actually touching her. I moved forward and gave one long, slow lick over her core. She cursed loudly, her thighs shaking and her heels digging into the bed.

I wanted more of her, needed more. Like a starving man, a taste wouldn't suffice. I buried my face against her, going to work with my tongue and lips, flicking and sucking at her clit until it sounded like she was about to sob. Without pausing, I thrust two fingers into her, curling them and stroking her inner walls, feeling them spasm and contract as she got closer. I pressed my tongue flat against her clit and moaned. She bucked as the vibration of it traveled through her and I grinned.

I moved back up, keeping my fingers inside her, thrusting them steadily, and kissed along her neck and chin before drawing back.

"Rose," I said, my voice raspy. "Look at me." Her eyes fluttered open on command, dark with lust. "Come for me," I commanded, feeling her walls quickening around my fingers before I even said it.

She cried out, her thighs clasping together, trapping my hand as she came around my fingers, her hips bucking and grinding. I captured her mouth, devouring it and her cries until it was over and she pulled away, gasping for breath, her body going slack.

"I love you so much," I muttered, gazing down at her. I felt it like a veritable weight in my chest, my love for her. At that moment, it seemed almost impossible to contain.

"I love you too," she said, her breathing calming. "That's why it's so hard to think about losing you."

"You'll never lose me," I promised.

After that everything was slow, tender. Our bodies seemed to meld together until I couldn't tell where I ended and she began. Nothing else mattered. Time stopped as we moved together, bringing each other to the peaks of pleasure again and again until we lay, exhausted and sated, in a tangle of sheets and our own limbs.

X

**RPOV**

By Wednesday, I had developed a new tactic in coping with mine and Emmett's impending separation: I simply wasn't going to think about it. I was going to enjoy the time we had together, and trust his word that I wasn't going to lose him.

Although how he could really promise a thing like that, I didn't know. It was comforting nonetheless.

Without that stress, we sort of began to seem like a real couple for the first time since we had met. It was surreal, and in its own way set me on edge, but I tried to ignore it. Just because we were finally acting normal didn't mean something was wrong.

Emmett started sleeping and eating again regularly.

I don't care what anyone says; sometimes you _can _fix a problem by ignoring it.

"So I've been thinking, and I think our best bet would be to hit the stores this weekend, before the rush," Alice said as soon as she sat down at lunch one day. I looked at Bella questioningly. She just shrugged, her eyes wide and nervous.

"What for, Alice?" I asked cautiously. Alice had her serious-shopping voice on, and I enjoyed shopping as much as the next girl, but Alice could be a bit dangerous in that mode.

"Prom dresses," she said, her tone suggesting that she was just itching to add a _duh_ at the end. Bella looked up again in alarm, freezing mid-bite of her salad.

"Prom is still three months away, Alice," I said. Bella nodded quickly in agreement. "And anyway, I don't think Emmett and I are going."

"Of course you are," Alice said dismissively. "You can't miss prom. It's a rite of passage. Not going to prom would be like not wanting to celebrate your birthday or act in a school play or something."

"None of which I enjoy doing," Bella pointed out.

"I don't know, it could be fun," Emmett said. Everyone turned to him in surprise. Bella looked worried and I knew why. Emmett would have seemed like her most likely ally in this battle. "What?" Emmett asked, raising an eyebrow at me. "Are you really telling me you would pass up a chance to see _all of this_ in a tux?" He mock posed, flexing his biceps. "I clean up real nice, if I do say so myself."

"It doesn't matter how _you _look; everyone knows this is their night to feel all fancy and classy and shit," Jasper answered, smirking.

"I'll have you know I'm classy as fuck," Alice said mid-bite of her sandwich, pouting around the food.

"Clearly, darlin'," Jasper teased.

"Edward?" Alice prompted after she had swallowed her food, looking at him expectantly. Bella's eyes snapped between the two of them as Edward seemed to consider it.

"I'm with Emmett, it could be fun," he said. Bella gaped at him mutinously.

"Edward!"

"I'm just saying, maybe Alice is right. Maybe it's just one of those human experiences you're supposed to have," he said, shrugging.

"Thanks for the advice, grandpa," Bella grumbled, but there was no real malice behind it.

"What can I say, I'm a timeless soul," Edward said, stretching and leaning back in his chair.

"So this weekend, then? We'll all go up to Port Angeles," Alice said excitedly.

"I don't know, it seems kind of conventional for us," I said, grinning at Emmett.

"Come on, babe, we can battle it out with each other again next week. No harm in going on a group date like a normal couple just this once," Emmett returned, laughing. Bella rolled her eyes.

"Fine, we're in, too," she said, sighing dramatically. I laughed. You'd think someone had just suggested that Bella go to the Congo for a year and rebuild villages or something. Actually, she might be more into that.

The bell rang for class and we gathered our stuff up, Alice making a promise that sounded more like a threat to have Bella come to our place that night to set up definitive travel plans.

X

**EPOV**

When I got home from school I found, to my great ire, a silver Volvo parked next to my mom's car in the driveway. I pulled up along the curb and got out, cutting across the grass to the front door and opening it.

My mom's voice floated from the living room, stopping me in my tracks.

"No, he's been doing much better the past couple of days," she was saying. "And he got his college letters in, so that's a huge relief."

"So stay," Dr. Cullen's voice answered simply.

"It's not that easy," she sighed. "All of the schools that he applied to are back East, and I want to stay close to him."

"Esme, stop using your son as a reason to run away," Dr. Cullen said, sounding exhausted. I wondered how long this conversation had been going on.

"I'm not. But we're a family and we need to stay together," Mom said in that tone of voice she always used with me when a subject was closed.

"He's going to college. He doesn't need you to be there twenty-four-seven. Kids develop their independence in college. It's normal. It's okay to start focusing on you when that happens," Dr. Cullen said. Mom was silent.

"I just don't want you to leave before we know what this could become," he continued after a minute. "I care about you, Esme. I want to give us a chance."

There was a pause and I held my breath. If he could convince her, then she would still be living here. Then this is where I would be coming for school breaks and summers. I could see Rosalie easily every couple of months, without having to skip out on Mom or choose between them.

"I'll think about it, Carlisle," Mom finally answered, her voice barely audible. "I'll put off the planning for the move for a few months, and we'll see where this goes. But I still need to do what's right for my family in the end, and if this isn't it…" she trailed off.

"I understand," Dr. Cullen said. I shut the door, finally signaling that I was home. I heard my mom's heels click across the hardwood and then she appeared around the corner, Dr. Cullen close behind her.

"Emmett," she said, looking uncomfortable. I guess the last time I had found out Dr. Cullen was here, I hadn't exactly been polite. "How was your day."

"Good," I said. There was an awkward pause. "I was actually going to go over to the Hale's. Alice wants us all to go to Port Angeles this weekend with Bella and Edward." For some reason at this point I nodded to Dr. Cullen like he didn't know I was talking about _his_ Edward. "They want to go shopping for prom and we're supposed to plan it out or something."

"You're going to prom?" Mom asked, sounding surprised.

"Bella agreed to go to prom?" Dr. Cullen asked at the same time. Really, I could understand his surprise more than my mom's.

"I went to prom last year," I pointed out. "And I think Bella agreed under duress, really. Everyone else is really into it."

Dr. Cullen nodded. There was another moment of tense silence.

"Well, we were actually thinking of going out to dinner, so that works out well," Mom said, looking at Dr. Cullen questioningly.

"Sounds good," he agreed, smiling. As cute as it was that they were like, officially dating now or whatever, this was getting really uncomfortable. I dropped my books on the table in the hall and made my way back to the door.

"Have fun, then," I said. "Don't do anything I wouldn't do."

"So anything short of death or hard drugs then?" Mom asked. I was almost offended, but then I saw that she was smiling. For the first time in a long time, Mom was joking with me.

"I like to set the bar high," I joked back, shrugging.

X

"Bella and Edward will be here in a few minutes," Alice chirped happily, poking the screen of her phone.

"Do you just check up on all of us all day on that app?" I asked, raising my eyebrows. She looked at me and shrugged. Beside her, Jasper caught my eye and shook his head almost imperceptively.

"I just like to know where people are," Alice muttered. I didn't really get it, but I heeded Jasper's warning and let it go. "Anyway, I was thinking we should go up Saturday morning instead of after school Friday, since it might take awhile to get everything we need."

"The stores will still be open for five hours after we'd get out of school and get up there," I pointed out. Rosalie laughed and Jasper shook his head.

"Like I said, not enough time," Alice said, grinning.

"You guys are going to try on dresses for more than _five hours_?" I asked, dumbfounded. I would never understand why it took girls so fucking long to do everything.

"Emmett, trust me man, as the guys we'll just go hang out and fuck around until one of them decides to let us know what color our vest needs to be, and then we'll go order a tux. Ten minutes of effort on our part, tops, and they do all of the actual work," Jasper explained.

"Unless you want to follow us around while we shop," Rosalie said, grinning. "We could always use someone to carry our bags."

"I would do just about anything for you, babe, but please don't actually ask me to do that," I groaned. She laughed, turning to lean against me as I put my arm around her, taking comfort in the feel of her body against mine.

The door opened and closed and after a second Bella and Edward came into the living room. Poor Bella looked like she was walking to face the firing squad. I didn't really get the big problem. Girls were supposed to be all over this prom shit, weren't they? Wasn't it like, the third most important day of their lives, after their wedding day and the birth of their first born?

And I guess their high school or college graduations because _women are not trophies or walking uterus' for the free use of men_, as my mom would say.

Point is, I thought this was supposed to be some important and fucking magical shit.

"I guess Edward's dad was right to be surprised that you agreed to go," I said to Bella, trying not to laugh. She shook her head.

"Dances aren't really my thing," she said.

"It's not a _dance_, Bella. It's _prom_. It's the social event of senior year," Alice said exasperatedly.

"When did you talk to my dad?" Edward asked.

"He was at my house when I got home. He and my mom were talking," I said. He nodded.

"And?" Alice prodded. Of course she knew about my plan with Edward, but I didn't want to bring that up in front of Bella.

"And they're going to dinner tonight," I said pointedly.

"But what about—" Alice stopped talking abruptly as Jasper nudged her. Bella looked between the rest of us, her brow furrowed.

"What's going on?" Bella asked.

"Nothing," I said, keeping my voice even. "Alice just knows that my mom and Dr. Cullen dating is a bit of a sore spot for me."

"Okay," Bella said slowly. She didn't look altogether too convinced. I wasn't surprised. Lying on the fly was never really my strong suit.

"So…" Rosalie began after a tense moment. "We'll go up Saturday morning, then?" Everyone was quick to agree with her, and we all went back to discussing the trip with a great bit more enthusiasm than we had before.

X

**AN**: So, in an attempt to get my funny back – because I feel like it's really been lacking since I came back – I bought "The Snark Handbook" by Lawrence Dorfman. It may or may not have helped, that remains to be seen, but if you enjoyed the humor in this story before the hiatus, I would highly recommend that you check out this book.

I should mention that, while I appreciate hearing from everyone, I have changed computers in the last two years. So I don't have files of my smuttakes and other tidbits that I was offering as a thanks for reviews on certain chapters. Unless someone who received it can still dig it up, I'm afraid there's no way for me to send them to anyone now. So sorry. D:

Also, I've decided I _am_ going to post chapter previews for this story on my livejournal. However, when I went to post the preview for this chapter, the site was down. I'll start posting them as soon as the site's back up, so be on the lookout for that if you're interested! The link is on my profile.

Let's see… it's been awhile since I've bribed you guys. Reviewers get… a snarky comment from me straight from "The Snark Handbook", that I of course mean in the best and most flattering way possible. You know you want the snark, and I can't wait to hear from you, so let's do this!


	24. Round Twenty-Three

**Not Without a Fight  
**Annaleise Marie

**Round Twenty-Three**

**AN**: So I'm starting to see a bit of increase in feedback since my return, and people are still adding this to their faves and alerts and just, wow guys, I just can't tell you how absolutely awesome I find that as a writer. Thank you so very much!

This chapter is going to be a sort of filler chapter – a little something light to serve as a break from all of the absolute CRAP I've been flinging at the characters lately! I hope you enjoy it and don't hate me too much for not progressing the storyline AT ALL. Haha.

Oh, there is a lot of listing of people in this chapter (ex: "Jasper, Alice, Rosalie, and I…") so I feel the need to mention that I honestly could not give one real fuck about the changes in the rules of English grammar regarding the use of the Oxford comma. I will continue to use commas the way teachers insisted I do through fourteen years of formal education until someone gives me a good reason that I should actually give even a single fuck. Just to put it out there.

I don't own Twilight, but then again, neither did EL James. Fuck copyright law! No, but seriously, I don't own Twilight. That would be Stephanie Meyer.

X

"Seven in the morning shouldn't be a thing that happens on Saturday," Alice grumbled sleepily from the backseat of the Jeep. Rose, Jasper, Alice, and I were all piled in it, with Edward and Bella following behind us in the Volvo. Alice was apparently not a morning person, having been pulled forcibly out of bed by Jasper and put into the Jeep just five minutes earlier, still in her pajamas. Jasper had brought out a stack of clean clothes and her makeup bag out with her.

"It's easier this way, trust me," he had said when I raised my eyebrows at him questioningly. "By the time we reach Port Angeles she'll be bouncing off the walls, but it would take an act of Congress to get her to do anything right now."

So she was currently curled up in the back, her head on Jasper's shoulder, grumbling about how early it was.

"I don't get it, Alice, it was you're idea to leave this early," I said.

"Don't throw your facts at me like they mean anything, McCarty," she grumbled. Jasper smirked at me in the rearview mirror.

True to Jasper's word, about ten minutes before we reached Port Angeles, Alice was completely awake and back to her normal exhaustingly energetic self.

She leaned forward, her head between Rosalie and me, giving block-by-block instructions as she peered eagerly out of the windshield.

"Alice, you have morning breath to rival a dragon," Rosalie finally said, and I was relieved that she had said it, because I was thinking it but just didn't have the heart to say it.

Alice gave a little squeak and dove back into the backseat, rummaging through her purse and finally pulling out a pack of gum.

"Oh, here! Park here!" she said, leaning forward again and pointing at a metered spot in front of a small boutique. The inside of the car was suddenly filled with the tang of watermelon gum.

I pulled into the spot and Rosalie, Jasper, and I piled out of the Jeep, standing to block the windows so that Alice could change as Edward and Bella pulled into the spot behind us.

"Have you figured out what you're going to do about them, yet?" Rosalie asked, nodding towards the car.

"Not a fucking clue," I admitted, searching my pockets for my cigarettes. I was completely stumped. Edward had obviously held up his end of the deal, but I could not for the life of me come up with a plan for mine. Which was fucking stupid. I was Emmett Fucking McCarty, panty-dropper extraordinaire. I had gone to great and sometimes downright ridiculous lengths to get a girl in bed before – like the time I arranged a private showing of _Top Gun_ at the local movie theater in Manassas because it was "just the absolute most romantic movie she had ever seen". That was a ridiculous statement in its own rite because the flagrant homoeroticism between Tom Cruise and Anthony Edwards was like a palpable smog in that movie, but I digress.

The point is, once I had put my mind to it, I had experienced very few failures in that department.

But for Edward and Bella, I was drawing a complete and total blank.

Alice emerged from the Jeep after a few minutes, looking stupidly well put-together for someone who hadn't even been fully conscious a half hour ago, and without preamble she grabbed Bella and Rosalie and marched them towards the boutique.

Jasper, Edward, and I stood there for a moment in dull surprise. Finally, Jasper cleared his throat.

"So. Man time. Let's do this," he said in a ridiculously deep voice, shrugging and starting off down the sidewalk.

We ended up sitting on the pier, our legs dangling over the edge, staring out at the Pacific in silence.

Or, it was silent for awhile.

"I am so bored!" Jasper suddenly burst out. "Why did we agree to this?"

"Love makes us do stupid things?" I offered, shrugging. Jasper snorted. "So, Edward, how goes it with Bella, anyway?"

"Awkward as fuck," he said grimly.

"Dude, have you considered that maybe you're just like… not ready?" Jasper asked. I bit back a sound that probably would have been a snort, sure that Edward wouldn't be amused. "I just mean, this seems to be a lot harder than it should be."

"That's what she said," I cracked. What can I say? When I'm uncomfortable, I develop the mentality of a five-year-old, and not laughing at Jasper's question had taken absolutely all of my strength.

"Seriously, though," Jasper said, ignoring me. Probably wisely, I might add. "No shame or anything."

"Except that it makes you a giant fucking pussy," I said helpfully.

"Emmett, adults are talking," Jasper said shortly and then his left hand was planted between my shoulder blades and I was being tipped violently forward, falling to crash into the water below.

Now, the Pacific Ocean is well-known for being extremely cold year-round, for some reason that no one has ever given enough of a fuck about to actually learn, with the exception of maybe some really bored marine biologists somewhere.

Add to that the fact that it was fucking January.

Add to _that_ the fact that cold water is known to be a favorite for cuddly things like Great White sharks.

Add all of those things together and maybe you can understand why I hit the water in full panic mode and became immediately, dramatically disoriented as saltwater filled my mouth and I lost the ability to tell up from down in the dark, frigid water.

Finally, it clicked in my oxygen-deprived mind that humans float naturally. I quit thrashing, letting myself rise until I hit the surface.

"Swim, you asshat! I'm not coming in after you!" Jasper was shouting from the pier. I glared up at him.

"Your ass is mine, Hale!" I forced myself to yell back through chattering teeth and gasps of searing cold air before I started swimming for shore. One thing was certain – if I didn't get out of this water soon, I was going to go into shock.

"Now _that_ is what she said!" Jasper shouted with a whooping laugh.

I was going to kill him. By the end of the day, I was going to kill Jasper Hale.

X

When I finally fought my way out of the surf, I was freezing, waterlogged, and missing a shoe. I was absolutely certain that my cigarettes were destroyed, and there was no way in hell that my phone had survived. Jasper and Edward had, rather wisely, abandoned the pier, and I was pretty fucking miserable.

I turned away from the pier and trooped back to the Jeep, figuring he'd have to come back there at some point. I ignored the shocked stares of the growing number of people out shopping, surely wondering why this angry-looking soggy guy was wandering around town with one shoe in the middle of January.

I reached the Jeep as the girls emerged from the boutique, laughing about something. Rosalie spotted me as they drew closer, her eyes growing wide with alarm.

"Oh my god, Emmett…" she began when they reached me. Bella was staring at me, her hand clasped over her mouth. Whether she was trying to stifle a gasp or a laugh, I couldn't tell.

Alice leaned towards me, sniffing my shirt. Her nose wrinkled distastefully.

"You smell like ocean water," she announced, taking a step back. I inhaled hard, trying to stay calm. "I mean, jeez, Emmett, you _really_ stink. What did you—"

Her words ended in a loud shriek as I reached out and grabbed her before she could dance away, pulling her against me and soaking her clothes with mine. I pulled my shirt around her head for good measure, soaking her hair.

I released her and there was stunned silence as she gaped at me, looking like a drowned rat, her eyes wide and horrified.

Then Rosalie and Bella both burst out laughing, doubling over and hugging their bags, their faces turning red as they fought for air.

"I'll kill you, McCarty!" Alice howled. She took a step towards me but I darted away.

"Sorry, I need to find Jasper," I said, laughing as I hurried down the sidewalk.

X

**RPOV**

"Absolutely not," Alice said stubbornly, eyeing a bright yellow pair of sweatpants. I thumbed through the rack, trying to find something in a slightly less violent color.

"Come on, Alice, you smell like salt and fish. Not a very flattering smell for a girl. Besides, they're on sell," I said. Alice glared at me mutinously.

"The Pink line is for whores who like to advertise what underwear they're wearing on their clothes. I might as well buy a pair of Daisy Dukes and a tube top and wear my thong pulled up on my hips," she said. I rolled my eyes and Bella laughed, earning her own glare from Alice.

"Listen, we do not have time to look for the perfect outfit. At least this stuff matches. Here, what about this?" I held up a navy blue set and a gray tee shirt, all free from the tell-tale logo. "It's not pretty, but no one will know it's Pink."

Alice huffed and took the clothes from me, tearing off the tags and handing them back along with her bank card.

"You pay. I'll go change," she said gloomily.

"Atta girl," I said before making my way to the register with the severed tags, Bella trailing along behind me. I supposed it must seem safer than staying with Alice.

I handed the tags to the little blonde girl working the till, causing her to raise a perfectly-sculpted eyebrow at me.

"Our friend has the clothes in the dressing room. She's going to wear them out," I explained. She shrugged and started scanning the tags. After she read the total I handed over Alice's card and she glanced at it before scanning it through.

"You're Alice Brandon?" she asked as she handed the card back. Before I could answer, she produced an envelope from behind the register. "A guy left this for you."

I took the envelope and looked at Bella, puzzled. She shrugged. I turned it over. There were no markings, but it wasn't sealed so I opened it, peering inside.

There were three Polaroid photos inside, each on a lanyard, and a folded piece of paper. I unfolded it to expose crosshairs, carefully drawn in red ink. Below it was the message: "It begins at noon."

I checked my phone. It was 11:30.

"What does that mean?" Bella asked, dumbfounded. I shook my head. I had no clue.

"What did this guy look like?" I asked the clerk. She shrugged.

"Tall, blonde hair, cowboy hat… And this really weird shirt that said…" she trailed off, trying to remember.

"There's no penguins in Alaska?" I supplied, remembering Jasper's Chiodos shirt from that morning.

"Yeah. I thought it was weird cause like, _everyone _knows that penguins come from Alaska," the clerk said.

"No, they don't," Bella said, shaking her head and blinking incredulously at her. "Penguins are indigenous to the southern hemisphere, unless in captivity."

The clerk just stared at her.

"Okay…" I said slowly. "Let's get Alice."

We found her just as she was leaving the dressing room. She was in full-pout mode, looking down at the sweatsuit in great distaste.

"Jasper left this for you," I said, holding out the envelope and the note. She read it, her brow furrowing, and then pulled the lanyards and their attached photos out of the envelope. I saw now that they were each a picture of us, and a grin spread across Alice's face.

"Assassin," she said. "Excellent! I can kill Emmett!"

X

**EPOV**

I was familiar with the game of Assassin, having taken part in a camp-wide game that one summer in Colorado, so I wasn't as confused as I could have been when a lanyard and accompanying photo of me came sailing under the door of my fitting room while I was trying to find new dry clothes. I was less surprised by the note slid under the door with the carefully-drawn crosshairs and announcement that the game would start at noon.

The problem was, without my phone, I had no idea what time it was. I didn't wear a watch.

Still, I felt a grin spread across my face. This may not have been exactly what I meant when I said that I would kill Jasper, but it would work.

X

**AN**: Originally this chapter was intended to be written to include the game of Assassin and the rest of the trip, but it would have been RIDICULOUSLY long. I mean, I know I said I wanted to start writing longer chapters, but we're talking like 7,000 words. Plus, it's been about three days since my last update so it seemed like it was about time.

So, I think with this chapter I may have finally gotten my funny back on track. What do you think? Reviewers get to play a game of Assassin with me in the event that we ever come across each other in real life. But I warn you, I'm crafty! :D


	25. Round Twenty-Four

**Not Without a Fight**  
Annaliese Marie

**Round Twenty-Four**

**AN**: Welcome back guys! Did you miss me? Of course you did. I'm fantastic, after all. Anyway, I gather that no one wants to play Assassin with me, and that's very sad. But fine. It's too much running for me, anyway.

So a long time ago I said that I wouldn't be doing any chapters from any POVs except Rose and Emmett. It was a pretty solid and final decision, so much so that it led to a whole side collection, "Not Without a Fight: Rematch". However, in order to write this chapter, I had to involve some JPOV, APOV, and BPOV. Bella kicked my ass btw, since she hasn't had much development time in this story. I hope you like it, though!

I own an old Polaroid camera that we could have used to play Assassin, but it's useless now. I have never owned Twilight, useless or not. That would be Stephanie Meyer.

Enjoy!

X

**JPOV**

"So... Why the sudden need to play Assassin?" Edward asked after we had delivered all of the lanyards and put our own on.

"I'm sure Emmett wants to kill me at the moment," I said, grinning. "That whole zen laugh-it-off thing he's got going on can't possibly stand up to a dunking in the Pacific in January."

"It _was_ a little extreme," Edward conceded.

"I believe the adjective you're looking for is 'hilarious'," I said, grinning widely at him. "Anyway, I figure if he has a chance to get out some of that energy, he may chill a bit before he actually kills me."

Edward shook his head. Whatever, it was a brilliant plan.

"Good luck with that," he said doubtfully as he checked his phone. "Noon, on the dot."

"Guess we'd better split up. I'd hate for you to be my first kill, after all the trouble you went to helping me set this up," I deadpanned. Edward gave me a look that said he clearly thought I was taking this way too seriously. I wasn't bothered. I got that a lot.

See, like Emmett, I took very little seriously. But unlike that big goofball, I enjoyed pretending like I did. It was my own little game, making people uncomfortable in that way.

Edward and I split up, him heading for the docks and myself back towards the main strip. I knew Alice would recognize the game and fill in Rosalie and Bella. Maybe. There was also a fair chance that she would feign ignorance and then kill them as soon as the game started. But regardless, I wasn't too concerned about them. I wanted to pull some recon and make sure Emmett knew the game.

His revenge wouldn't be very effective if he didn't know of the opportunity, now would it? And then his anger wouldn't be placated at all and he may resort to his own means of revenge.

Don't get it twisted. I'm not afraid of Emmett. But I would much rather battle this out in a game than get into a full-out prank war or, much less likely but still possible, an actual physical altercation with someone Emmett's size. Anyone would want to avoid that. And anyone who would say otherwise, well, they're fucking liars.

X

**APOV**

"Okay, the game of Assassin is simple," I said, handing Rosalie and Bella their lanyards. "These pictures are your life. If someone steals yours, you're dead and out of the game. If you kill someone, you get their picture and any others that they've collected. The game ends when only one person is left alive and they have everyone else's pictures."

Bella and Rosalie nodded, slipping their lanyards over their heads. I should be annoyed at Jasper for interrupting my shopping trip, but this was just too much fun to pass up. I checked my phone. Noon.

"We should split up now. In larger games there are sometimes alliances but with only six people I don't think that would be the best strategy," I said. It was the same reason I hadn't already killed both of them. You couldn't do things like that in a game this size or it would be over pretty much before it began. "I think we should call a five-minute cease fire between us to give us time to scatter. More sportsmanlike."

"Agreed," Bella said, looking at her photo.

"Oh, and one more thing," I added. "No offense Rose, but in this game, Emmett is mine. He has to pay for this." I gestured to the horrible sweatsuit I was now wearing. No one made Alice Brandon wear whore sweats. No one. Rosalie shrugged.

"He's like twice your size, but if you insist," she said.

"Size is irrelevant. It's how you play the game," I said, ignoring Rosalie's subsequent immature snicker. She and Emmett really were a matched set. "And I take no prisoners."

"Okay, GI Jane, let's get going then," Rosalie said, rolling her eyes.

X

**JPOV**

I had found Emmett on the same block as the Jeep. He was wearing his picture, so I figured he had understood the game, or had played before. From there I had followed him, careful to stay a few yards behind, although he never checked to see if he was being followed, towards the smaller boat docks where everything from luxury motorboats to Sea-Doos to a few puny fishing boats were dry docked in the marina for the winter. I furrowed my brow. It seemed like Emmett was following someone, not just wondering around, but though there were some people milling around in the area none of them were consistently visible or moving along the same path as Emmett.

He reached the marina and stepped through the huge opening in the building, disappearing inside. I waited, straining my ears for any sound to indicate what he was doing or who he might be following. There was a short series of metallic clanks and rattles and then silence.

I waited a bit longer, but no more sound reached my ears. Emmett didn't reappear from the building, though, and after a few minutes I crept towards the giant opening. I had to stay near him to allow him his revenge, but I had to be cautious or it would be too easy.

I stepped through the opening and waited for my eyes to adjust. Even with the giant gap in the wall filtering in bleak January light, I could only make out the dark shapes of raised boats and equipment against the gray air.

That metallic clanking and rattling sounded again, this time behind me, and before I could turn around there was a sharp tug on my waistband and I was lifted off of my feet.

That fucker had fucking trapped me.

X

**EPOV**

I had to laugh at the sight of Jasper hanging from the ceiling from the length of heavy boat chain. I had orignally just planned to fuck with him when I had realized that he was following me, cut through the marina and exit the other side, throw him off the track, but when I had gotten inside and saw the hook and pulley, the idea clicked in my head. I waited for him to enter the marina himself and slipped the hook through his belt loop to hoist him off of the ground.

So now he was flailing, his legs kicking helplessly, tring to find purchase in the empty air. He was only about six inches off of the ground, but for all the good his proximity to the ground did him, it may as well have been a hundred feet.

"You okay there, Jasper?" I asked. He stopped flailing, his face smoothing to a look of cool indifference as I walked around him and he finally saw me.

"Just hanging out," he said dryly. "How about letting me down?"

"Maybe later," I said. I reached out and snagged the picture from his lanyard.

"You know, don't get me wrong, we love a good hanging in the south and all, so I can understand that bit, but even we have the manners to offer the condemned a few last words before we just kill them," he said blandly.

"So I guess yours were, 'that's what she said'," I recalled. "Not the most dignified."

"You are just sorely lacking in hanging etiquette and it's a shame, really," he said. "Now let me down, you asshat."

"Nah, you'll be fine. I'll be back later," I said, laughing and turning to leave. His curses followed me all the way out. Such a fucking mouth on that one.

X

**APOV**

I ran along the main strip, cursing inwardly and looking back over my shoulder every few seconds. I was sure people thought I was either crazy or in some sort of trouble, but I didn't care. I needed to find Emmett, and for the second time in as many weeks Latitude had failed me completely. I guessed that however Emmett had managed to get drenched, it had also resulted in the destruction of his phone.

Using Latitude was probably cheating anyway, but dammit, this was personal now!

I remembered Emmett mentioning that he needed to find Jasper, and even though it had been over an hour ago, I figured that was as good a place to start as any. Latitude put Jasper down by the dry docks, and he didn't seem to be moving.

Dr. Cullen had suggested the app as a way to combat my eremophobia and abandonment issues. This way, when the anxiety started when I was alone, I could reassure myself that everyone was actually still around. It helped a lot, so I guess he just figured we could work on the creepy stalker connotations later, although most of the time it just seemed to make people think that I had a weird sixth sense sort of thing going on.

I finally reached the docks, keeping my eyes peeled for any signs of Emmett, but no one in the thin crowds on this side of town even resembled him.

I found the marina that Latitude placed Jasper in, and stepped carefully inside. I had to squeeze my eyes shut and open them a few times before they adjusted to the dark, and then I couldn't help but burst out laughing at what I saw.

"Good, you're back. Let me down, you asshole!" Jasper growled, kicking his legs.

"I hope you're not playing these games with someone else, Jazz," I said sweetly. He stopped kicking.

"Alice? Dammit. No, Emmett strung me up here because I pushed him off the pier," he said. Ah, so that's why Emmett had been soaked. "Could you just let me down? This is getting uncomfortable in a really bad way."

I came around to stand in front of him, running my eyes over him appraisingly.

"I don't know, I kind of like you like this. Although the whole setup being reliant on you wearing pants is kind of a downer."

"Alice," he groaned. "You're not making this any easier, you know."

I finally noticed that his picture was gone. Ah, so this was part of the game, not just a prank.

"So where did Emmett go, anyway?" I asked. Jasper nodded behind me to the large opening in the wall opposite of the one I had come in.

"He went that way, about ten minutes ago," he said. "Now could you please-"

"Sorry, Jazz, I've gotta catch him," I said, turning to leave.

"Wait a second, are you wearing Pink?" Jasper asked suddenly. "So do the underthings match, then?"

I smiled, stepping closer to him and raising up on tiptoe to bring my mouth as close to his ear as I could.

"Jasper, love of my life," I said quietly, "I swear that if you ever mention this awful outfit again, it will be a very long time before you know anything about my underwear again."

"That is just an awful and heartless threat, darlin'," he said mournfully. I laughed.

"Now, I hate to dash, but I have to make Emmett pay for ruining my outfit and forcing me into this mess," I said, kissing him quickly on the jaw. It was the highest I could manage with him off the ground and I had to jump a little even for that. "You just hang in there, love."

"Can't really see any other option, darlin'," he said in his slow drawl. I waved and then ran from the marina.

Outside, the wind had picked up and and the sharp ocean air stung my cheeks and whipped my hair around to lash harshly at my face. I shivered, glancing over at the water. It looked like a storm was blowing in. Most people would be heading indoors. If Emmett took cover, it would make him that much harder to find. Indoors was completely within limits, but it was always a pain in the ass to find people that way.

I made it back to the Jeep, glancing inside to see if he might have been hiding there. No Emmett, but what I did find in the back seat gave me a great idea. I felt an evil grin spread across my lips.

X

**EPOV**

Now that I had taken care of Jasper, I really had no plan or strategey for the rest of the game. I did, however, need to replace my cigarettes.

I left the store and turned right, fumbling with the pack and not really watching where I was going. That was my mistake.

The air was knocked right out of me as I was suddenly clotheslined around the middle. With a sharp tug I was heaved around, my back slamming against a lamp post. My cigarette pack fell to the ground with a dull slap.

Whatever had thrown me back was tightening around my middle, binding my arms to my side. It was also wet; cold water was seeping through my dry clothes, chilling me to the bone. The brackish smell hit my nostrils and I knew what was restraining me before I even looked down.

Sure enough, it was my wet pants from earlier. The legs were wrapped around me, the denim refusing to give as I struggled. I twisted my head around, looking behind me, and there was Alice, tying the excess in a knot around me and the lamp post.

"Fuck, Alice, there are nicer ways to kill me," I said, wincing as my back throbbed in pain. Come to think of it, my back had taken a lot of abuse since I had moved here.

A couple of people had stopped to stare. I don't know if it had been what I said about Alice killing me, or if it was simply the spectacle of a five-foot-two, one hundred pound girl tying up a guy my size with a pair of wet jeans, but they seemed intrigued.

"Nothing to see here, folks," Alice said, flashing a grin at them as she came back around the pole to the sidewalk. I noticed that she was carrying the bag that Jasper had packed her clothes in that morning. "Go on. Shoo."

The people wandered away reluctantly, casting back curious glances every few feet.

"Now. Let's see," Alice began, bending down to unzip the duffel bag. "You left Jazz hanging off the ground by his pants in an isolated marina, and more importantly, you ruined my outfit and made me settle for this travesty. For that, I think you need to pay."

"You know, if you're going to hit on me, you should really run it past Rose first. I don't think she's into sharing," I said, grinning at her. The pain in my back had subsided some, leaving behind only a dull soreness.

"Funny, Emmett," Alice said, glaring. "But I'm wearing whore sweats and my boyfriend is strung up by his belt loops and I'm not laughing!"

"Maybe you just didn't understand the joke," I said evenly as she swelled with rage. Damn, she was mad. And what exactly were whore sweats? I mean, besides the obvious.

She reached out and snatched my picture from my lanyard before reaching in the bag and pulling out a piece of paper, clipping it in the picture's place. I looked down, struggling for a moment to read the note upside down. _Do not untie me. I am thinking about what I have done,_ it said.

"Really, Alice? You're putting me in time out?" I asked. She reached into the bag again and took out one of my socks and my shirt.

"No talking in time out," she said. I opened my mouth to deliver what I'm sure would have been the comeback to end all comebacks - something articulate like, 'Fuck you, Alice,' - but I was cut short when she abruptly stuffed the sock in my mouth.

I immediately gagged and tried to spit it out, but Alice wrapped the shirt around the lower half of my face, tying it behind my head, securing the fabric flush against my mouth,

The wet clothes were really, really cold. Like, so cold that they were literally beginning to make my joints ache.

I tried to yell at Alice, but the words were muffled and indistinguishable. She just grinned at me.

"Don't worry, Emmett, I'll be back to untie you when the game is over," she said, slipping my picture into her jacket pocket. "Oh, right, I almost forgot," she added, reaching into my own pocket and pulling out Jasper's picture. "Thanks!"

She turned on her heel and skipped off. As miserable as this whole situation was, I had to hand it to her: if this happened to anyone else, it would easily be one of the top five most hilarious things I had seen in years. It was so well-executed, I wasn't even sure I could be mad at her for it. A little annoyed at having a soggy, dirty fucking sock shoved in my mouth, but not mad, really.

At least it was my sock, I thought ruefully as people started to gather.

X

**BPOV**

I had been walking around for the better part of an hour, casting furtive glances over my shoulder every few feet. This wasn't really my kind of game. I wasn't the most atheletic, or graceful, or sneaky, or anything, really. I was pretty much expecting to be killed before I even had time to process it. The others were ridiculously atheletic, and what some of them may lack in atheleticism, they made up for in pure grace and agility.

Really, most of the time I felt like a mere lowly mortal among gods or something.

There was a crowd gathering up ahead, clustered around a lamp post. As I drew closer I heard snatches of conversation.

"... Maybe we should untie him?"

"The note says not to."

"But that can't be serious, can it?"

"No one would just leave him tied up like this, would they?"

"I don't know, the note says..."

I figured someone had left a dog tied up, but I was surprised that so many people were concerned. People tied up their dogs all the time. At least they hadn't left him locked in a stuffy car while they shopped. Although that was really more of an issue of cruelty in the summer, and with it being as cold as it was...

I don't know, I couldn't really make it add up.

"Maybe it's just a prank."

"I heard something about this. The Dead Family ties them up like this when they make trouble and drop acid in their eyes so they go insane." That one made me roll my eyes.

I pushed my way to the front of the crowd.

_Holy crow_.

They weren't talking about a dog at all. Instead, Emmett was tied to the lamp post with what looked like a pair of jeans, with a shirt tied around his mouth. His eyes got wide when he saw me and he looked like he was trying to say something.

I stepped closer, reading the note on his lanyard.

Oh jeez.

I stepped around him to untie the shirt. When I finally got it off of his face, he spit out a sock and started gasping in huge lungfuls of air. I wrinkled my nose.

"Alice did this to you?" I guessed. I hadn't known this was what she had meant when she called dibs on him at the start of the game.

"Of course. The girl has lost her mind," Emmett grumbled as I went to work undoing the knot in the jeans securing him to the post. The wet denim was making a difficult job of it.

"Well, she was pretty ticked about her outfit," I said.

"Yeah, what are whore sweats?" he asked. I couldn't help but laugh.

"It's what she calls the Pink line from Victoria's Secret. It was all we could find for her to change into on such short notice," I explained. I finally got the knot undone and unwrapped the jeans from his waist. He rubbed his arms where they had bound him and turned to me. The issue resolved, the crowd began to disperse.

"Well, that makes sense, I guess," he said, sounding doubtful. "Plus, I guess she found out that I strung Jasper up in the marina."

"You're kind of making an enemy of Alice today, aren't you?"

"Unfortunately. Who knew she was such a worthy opponent?"

"All of you are," I said. He looked at me, puzzled. "I just mean, it's difficult being in a game like this with you guys. I'm not exactly in the same class."

"Well, you've lasted longer than me," he said, grinning. "So what's your plan?"

"I don't really have one. I'm not really as sneaky or cunning as the rest of you," I said, shrugging. He shook his head.

"Man, stop comparing yourself to the rest of us. What would you normally do when you need help? Cause no offense, but with your lack of a strategy, you seem to need some help," he said.

"I guess I'd normally find Edward. Or, he'd find me. He has this knack for turning up when I'm in trouble."

Which was true. There was that time with the motorcycles. And the cliff-diving incident. And basically everything else that had ever happened to me in La Push ever. But that was a long, long story and I doubted Emmett would be interested.

"So find Edward," Emmett said, shrugging. "He's gotta be around here somewhere. Actually, knowing you two, he's probably really close." I nodded and he turned to leave. "I guess I'll go and wait this out. Oh, and Bella?"

"Yeah?"

"Would you two just talk to each other? About... you know... stuff?" he said pointedly. "The tension between you is driving everyone crazy, and it seems like you can talk to everyone but each other."

I blushed, embarrassed that Emmett knew about something like that. But he just grinned and waved before sauntering off. Nothing seemed to bother Emmett.

Still, I turned around and headed back the way I had come, too embarrassed to risk more time with him.

x

It turns out Emmett was right. I didn't even really have to look for Edward.

The storm had finally broken and I ducked into a bookstore to escape the rain, figuring that I could at least browse a bit until someone found me or the rain let up. That was pretty much the furthest extent of my plan: wait it out.

I was browsing the classic literature section at the back of the store when I rounded a shelf and ran smack into Edward.

"I see you're still alive," he said, nodding to my picture.

"Yeah. I'm kind of surprised. Knowing me I just kind of figured I'd run smack into another live player," I said, laughing slightly. He quirked an eyebrow at me.

"I'm still alive," he said. I bit my lip, unsure if I should really do it. I wasn't fast enough, not faster than him, and the second I moved, I was sure he would too. He just continued to stare at me with those startling green eyes.

I took a deep breath, steeling myself to do it, but he moved before me. Instead of reaching for my picture, though, he tucked my hair behind my ear. I sucked in a breath as he stepped closer to me, closing the distance between us. It amazed me just how much he could still affect me, even after all of this time.

He guided my face towards his, leaning down to brush his lips softly against mine. I sighed, instantly deepening the kiss, my body warming. Edward had this insistence about taking things slow, and it was driving me crazy. My hands came up to rest against his chest. His lanyard was resting against my right thumb.

"Bella," he said, his voice husky, sending my heart leaping into my throat. The braid of the lanyard rubbed against my thumb insistently, reminding me. I took a breath, letting my hand drift slowly lower.

I reached the photo and grabbed it, tugging hard just as he spoke again.

"I love you," he said.

"Gotcha!" I shouted triumphantly at the exact same time. There was a moment's pause as he stared at his picture in my hand and I stared at him. Then his words clicked and I started to laugh. "Oh my god," I said, my shoulders shaking from the laughter. "Of course I love you too."

"Enough to kill me," he said, smirking. I shrugged.

"That could work in some situations," I teased. "Like, what if you were a vampire or something, and the only way for us to be together forever was to kill me and turn me into one."

"That sounds completely realistic and reasonable," he said, chuckling. "You have got to stop reading those books."

"They're not that bad," I said. "I mean, they're no great American classic, but they're not terrible."

"Hmm," Edward hummed noncommittally. "That aside, shouldn't you be finishing your game? Who else is out, other than me?"

"Emmett and Jasper," I answered. Edward grimaced.

"Bad day for men," he said. I laughed. "Take them out, then."

"Will do," I said, standing on tiptoe to kiss him before I turned to leave.

And found myself face-to-face with Alice.

X

Two minutes later our pictures were gone and Edward and I were locked in the utility closet.

"How did she even do that?" I asked incredulously. Edward shrugged.

"Alice has always been crafty," he said. "She seems weirdly in the zone today though."

"Probably eager to get back to playing Bella Barbie," I said ruefully. "She tied Emmett to a lamp post with a pair of jeans and gagged him with a sock."

"What?" Edward asked incredulously.

"Yeah," I confirmed. We looked at each other for a second before bursting out laughing. It really was a ridiculous image. This was what I loved about Edward, this easy comfort. Lately things had been pretty tense. Well, since I had told him I was ready to "take the next step".

"Edward?" I started. He turned his bright eyes on me. "What we talked about before..."

"We'll get there, Bella," he said. "But your first time isn't going to be in a utility closet."

"Where, then?" I asked. I knew I was nagging, and really, I felt ridiculous, practically begging my boyfriend to have sex with me, but well, here we were.

"My bed," he said. I looked up in surprise. Edward had never actually answered that before.

"When?" I asked thickly. My mouth had gone dry suddenly. Edward's eyes were dark, predatory. It sent a chill down my spine.

"Tonight."

X

**RPOV**

Alice was a scary little thing when she was determined. I felt bad about not helping Emmett and just watching from behind a vendor stand nearby, but giving my location away was the quickest way to get killed by Alice. That suspicion was confirmed when Bella did untie him before running off, and Alice slid from her hiding spot in the shadowed doorway of a store half a block down, following after her.

No, the easiest way to win this would be to stay a few yards behind Alice until it was just down to the two of us.

Which had finally happened, I realized as I passed the closet that Alice had chaired Edward and Bella into.

I had ditched my phone back at the Jeep, which I quickly found out was a good idea. Alice, the giant cheater, was checking Latitude as she went through each person.

I dropped back and circled the block, walking in the opposite direction as Alice. If Latitude was going to take her back to the Jeep, I was just going to have to get there before her. If I could slip into the boutique without being spotted, I could get the jump on her.

X

I didn't make it to the boutique in time. As I rounded the last corner and stepped on the main strip, Alice appeared at the opposite end of the block. There was a second where we stared at each other, and then a wide grin spread across her face.

She stayed still for only a second, and then she was running towards me. I cringed. I had been in two collisions with Alice in the past. The girl did not hesitate or shy away from the blow. It was inhuman. I knew this was her last tactic, the game-ender. It was going to come down to who shied away first.

I planted my feet, bracing myself, leaning in the direction of the coming impact. She didn't slow, and just a few seconds later I was hit full-force. My feet slipped on the soaked cement and my knees buckled, and Alice and I went sprawling to the ground, sliding a full yard along the sidewalk.

I groaned, letting my head fall back as rain spattered my face. I had been straining to keep it off the ground during the slide, and now my neck felt tight and achy. I was sure the back of my jacket was destroyed.

"Nice," a voice said, sounding amused, and I looked up to see Emmett sticking his head out of the Jeep window to where we were sprawled, a mess of tangled limbs with Alice on top of me.

"Oh, go to hell," I groaned. "Alice, get _off_."

She sat up, rolling to her back and checking herself for injury. After a moment she stood up, looking at me calmly.

She reached up and pulled her own picture from her lanyard, before handing it and all of the others to me.

"Okay. It's over. Can we finish shopping now?" she asked, holding her hand out to help me up. I gaped at her in disbelief as, still in the Jeep, Emmett dissolved into howls of laughter.

X

EPOV

It took longer than expected to round everyone back up after the game, respectively because Jasper wanted to fight anyone who came near him, having been left hanging for a good two hours by that point, and Edward and Bella had to be practically dragged out of the closet by force. Whatever, at least they seemed to be making progress.

By the time we atually finished with the shopping and piled into the Jeep, most of the shops were closing down. At least Alice seemed in pretty good spirits, given that we had still all gotten our prom clothes taken care of.

The Jeep was filled with the smell of rain-dampened clothes, sweat, and seawater, and we rode all the way back to Forks with the windows down despite the cold to let in fresh air. But despite the odd circumstances and ridiculous events of the day, I couldn't help but note that this was the closest I had felt to being a normal person since the moves started. A normal person with normal friends who got up to normal teenage crap. Emmett Fucking McCarty, normal fucking kid.

Go figure, right?

X

**AN**: Ah, what a dysfunctional little group. At least they can all take a joke. Sort of. Given enough time. Haha.

In the next chapter we return to normal life in Forks for the group after this nice little break. I hope you enjoyed it! It was ridiculous, I admit, but let's all remember that this is at its heart a comedy. :)

I should mention that, now that I'm back, I am pledging to update at LEAST once a week. If I can, it'll be more, but I'll always update at least once, Saturday to Saturday. So if you don't use an account on this site but want to keep up with the updates, that would be a good day to mark to check. :3

I'd love to hear from all of you!


	26. Round Twenty-Five

**Not Without a Fight**  
Annaleise Marie

**Round Twenty-Five**

**AN**: So between updates, I gave you readers the chance to pick which story arc you want me to start next. It was a pretty close poll, with Option C: The Hales return, winning by exactly one vote. While this would be an excellent opportunity to demonstrate the importance of voting and how one vote can make a difference, I'm going to appeal to the masses at large and combine B and C into one arc. Hope you enjoy it!

Thanks to everyone who voted! Now let's get on with the show!

I own a shiny new iPad, which I am pretty much in love with to an extent that borders on inappropriate for an inanimate object, but I do not own Twilight. Stephanie Meyer, of course.

X

**EPOV**

I was woken up rather rudely the weekend before Valentines Day as my door banged open, slamming against the wall with a loud crash. My plan had been to sleep as late as a human being could actually manage and then trudge around in my pajamas all day. Rosalie was having a girl's day with Alice or some shit so I really had no plans.

Instead, I sat up with enough force to crack my neck, going from sleeping like a fucking baby to more awake than a speed freak in about half a second.

Jasper was striding into the room like he owned the fucking place. I flopped back down, pulling one of my pillows over my head and groaning.

"Man, I need your help," he said. I groaned again, shaking my head under the pillow.

"I'll help you when I'm awake."

"Dude, this is serious," he said, pulling the pillow off of my face and hitting me with it.

"Fine," I grumbled, rolling out of bed and trudging towards the bathroom. He followed me across the room, thank god stopping a few feet from the bathroom door.

Unfortunately, he proceeded to yell through the door at me even after I had closed it.

"So Valentines Day is this week. This week, man. I didn't even realize it," he said. I rolled my eyes.

"That is your gigantic emergency?" I asked.

"Don't you get it? Valentines Day is either the best day of the year for guys, or doomsday. There is no middle ground on this," he said.

"You know, it is really hard to piss with you talking to me," I said. He paused just long enough for me to finish but then started up again the second I turned on the water to wash my hands.

"Girls get all uppity about this shit, you know? Like, most of the time if we can't get our shit together and be romantic it's like, okay, well, we're guys, what can you really expect? But then fucking February rolls around and god help us if we're not romantic. It's a lot of pressure," he said. I opened the door and walked past him, making some sound of agreement just to placate him.

"So anyway, I need your help," he finished. I opened my dresser and pulled out clothes for the day, not wanting to parade around in my boxers in front of Jasper any longer than strictly necessary.

"Why does everyone seem to think I'm some sort of big romantic gesture guru?" I asked, thoroughly irritated.

"Have you had one special occassion that _didn't_ go off without a hitch?" he asked, looking at me like it should be obvious.

"I get that, but that's with my shit. If you'll recall from the whole Edward situation, I'm not that good at planning other people's crap," I said. "I don't know, it's easier with Rose. I guess because I want to make her happy, and I get her and all of that."

"Then decide to want to make Alice happy," Jasper said, shrugging. I rolled my eyes.

"I can't think of Alice that way. She's like a little sister or something. I'm telling you, every time I try to think of something another guy should do, I just come up with flowers and crap. It's not my fault your girlfriend is ridiculously high maintainence," I said, shrugging. Jasper made an irritated sound in the back of his throat.

"She's not high maintainence," he corrected me. "She'd be pretty happy with just some flowers or something. But flowers aren't good enough for her."

That was oddly touching, actually.

"I don't know then, man," I said.

"We should go scouting," he said, his expression determined.

"What?" I asked, plopping down on my bed to put on my socks.

"We'll just go out scouting locations and shit and see what comes to us," he said.

"Isn't that going to be difficult without even something to start with?" I asked. Jasper started to turn red. I guess I wasn't showing the sort of cooperation he was hoping for. "Fine, fine. It's not like I have anything else to do today." I stood up and grabbed my jacket off the hook on the door and headed for the stairs.

I let Nanuq out into the back yard and then shouted to Mom that I was going out. Jasper seemed much calmer now that I was playing along. He followed me outside, still talking.

"I mean, it's getting difficult, you know. This is our third Valentines together and it's like each year I've gotta one-up the last. I'm not even sure how to go about that," he said.

"What did you do last year?" I asked as I stepped off of the curb, and directly onto something that let out a loud crack. I looked down, puzzled, only to discover that the thing I had stepped on was a dried-up pen that I had thrown out a few days earlier. That was when I realized that all of our trash had been torn into, the wind pushing it against the curb, out of view of the house.

"Dammit," I sighed, reaching down and righting the collection bin. The Hale's was overturned as well, and it seemed like the contents of both household's trash had taken over the edge of the street. God damned dogs. The least the neighbors could do was keep them in their yard. I mean, Nanuq could be a distructive beast, but you didn't see me just letting her wander around getting into shit.

Jasper and I both crouched down, scooping up the garbage and dumping it in the collection bins.

"Damn, man, your family is disgusting. Don't you have a disposal?" Jasper asked, holding an old banana peel with two fingers and gagging theatrically.

"I don't remember asking you for an appraisal of our garbage," I grumbled. "Just pick it the fuck up."

"Anyway, last year I look her to dinner at the Space Needle. Romantic as fuck, I'd say, judging by what she gave me, that night," he said. I groaned. It really freaked me out when Jasper talked about that aspect of his relationship with Alice. Maybe it was because she looked like she was about twelve, but there was something about it that was just nine hundred times dirtier than normal, in a Herbert the Pervert kind of way.

I was so disturbed out that it took me a second to realize that Jasper had frozen. He was stooped over by a pile of garbage, not speaking, not moving.

"Dude?" I asked, kind of creeped out, to be honest. He turned to look at me slowly, his eyes wide in apparent horror. He held something up, his mouth working slowly as he searched for words. I walked over slowly, and realized immediately once I saw it why he was acting like such a special fucking snowflake.

"Dude," he finally managed to croak out.

Between his fingers he held a plastic stick, printed on the side with ClearBlue. It had a digital readout, but for what it conveyed it may as well have just said _fucked_ in big letters.

"Whose trash did this come from?" he asked.

"Does it matter?" I asked. Rosalie was at my house as much as her own. She could have taken it either place.

"Well, not for you," Jasper conceded grimly. "But it would only be Alice's if it came from ours. She wouldn't take one at your house."

Alice. I hadn't even thought of that. It was fifty-fifty that it wasn't Rosalie. That thought wasn't as much of a comfort as it should have been.

"Fuck, man," I said. My brain felt stuck.

"Fuck," Jasper muttered. It sounded like an agreement.

We stared at the test and the damning word. It was all we could do for a long time.

X

When we had finally collected our thoughts enough to act, we decided to just ask Rosalie and Alice about it. Like mature goddamned adults. Mature goddamned adults scared out of our wits. And I'll tell you, Jasper must have been as scared as I was, because he hadn't yet offered to kill me for possibly knocking his sister up.

Jesus fucking Christ. Rosalie might be pregnant. Emmett fucking McCarty, father. I did not like the ring of that one. Fucking hell.

My mind was a swirl of terror and obscenities. It was hard for even me to tell what I was thinking.

We found Rosalie and Alice in the Hale's living room, stretched out on the couch in opposite directions, the television on although neither of them appeared to be watching it.

"How long do you think they'll be here this time?" Alice asked. Rosalie shrugged.

"They didn't say. I didn't even know they were coming," she said. Jasper cleared his throat and both of their heads swivelled around to look at us.

"Hey, glad you're back. You'll never guess-" Rosalie started.

"Is there something either of you need to tell us?" Jasper asked. Alice looked puzzled. Rosalie just looked ticked off at being interrupted. Jasper held up the test and everyone just stared at it for a second.

"Is that a-" Alice started, her nose wrinkled in distaste.

"Whose is that?" Rosalie asked. "Why do you even-"

"It was in the trash," Jasper said. There was a pause where both of the girls just looked confused.

"And why are you fishing random pregnancy tests out of people's garbage?" Alice asked carefully.

"Oh, come on!" I burst out. My mind was a muddled mess already and I was pretty sure this was a mindfuck of a conversation anyway. "Which of you are pregnant?"

"Us?" Alice asked, straightening up in surprise.

"Pregnant?" a low voice asked from behind us. Rosalie's face went white. Jasper and I slowly turned around, only to find ourselves face-to-face with Mr. Hale.

"Dad," Jasper said weakly.

"Pregnant?" Mr. Hale repeated, louder.

"Dad, we're not-"

"Pregnant?!" Mr. Hale was definitely yelling now. I took an instinctive step back. Everything in my dangerous-father radar, honed over years of sticky situations with girls, was warning me that close proximity to this man was not in my best interest.

"Pregnant?" Mrs. Hale appeared in the doorway. It would have been really nice to know that they were back in town before this whole scene.

"Can we pick a new word now?" Rosalie asked. I turned to look at her and then realized that that put my back to Mr. Hale, which didn't seem like a safe option, and spun back around.

"No one's-" Alice started, but at that moment Mrs. Hale snatched the test out of Jasper's hand. Her eyes buldged as she looked at it.

"Pregnant," she gasped.

If I heard that word one more time I was going to scream.

"Which one of you is it?" Mrs. Hale asked, her voice deadly quiet. I took another step back. "Rosalie?"

"Mom, no!" Rosalie said, her face still devoid of color.

"Emmett thought it could be you," Mrs. Hale said.

"It's not!"

"Alice?" Mrs. Hale continued, pivoting to look at her. Alice shook her head hard.

"So this positive test just... appeared in our trash?" Mrs. Hale demanded.

"I guess, because I'm not-"

"Fine. If no one will own up to it, I guess you'll both just have to take a new test," Mrs. Hale said shortly.

"But we're not-"

"If you're not pregnant, then you have nothing to worry about," Mr. Hale said in a very final tone of voice. "Jasper, go to the store."

"I really don't want to go buy pregnancy tests, Dad," Jasper said, looking almost more horrified than he had when he found the stupid thing.

Now, here's the thing about my mom: she may be absolutely batshit crazy at times, and more than a little unstable, but she provided some good instructions for life in general over the years, one of them being, if you can't stomach going to the store, looking a cashier in the eye, and buying a pregnancy test, then you probably shouldn't be having sex. It was a rule I had lived by, and it looked like it was about to come in handy.

"I'll go," I said quietly. It went against every instinct in my body to draw attention to myself in this situation. Mrs. Hale disappeared into the kitchen. I wondered if she was going to bake something. But a moment later she returned with two gallon jugs of orange juice. She gave one each to Rosalie and Alice.

"Drink up," she said shortly. Rosalie glared at her and twisted the top off of her gallon with a snap. Alice looked like she might cry.

"Emmett, go to the store. Get the early response tests. And god help you if hers comes out pregnant," Mr. Hale said quietly. It was a dangerous sort of soft voice, the kind that left absolutely no doubt in my mind that I may actually die today.

A disturbing quiet settled over the house as I walked to the door, the only sound the snap of the seal on Alice's juice.

X

**RPOV**

"Well, this really couldn't get any more awkard," Alice grumbled. She was sitting on the toilet, the lid down, her gallon jug balanced on her legs.

"Yeah. It's a little too Juno for my tastes," I agreed from my spot on the edge of the tub. "Why don't you just tell them? Then we can both be done with this."

"Tell them what?" Alice asked. I looked at her pointedly. "I'm not pregnant, Rose!"

"Well, I'm not, either!" I said. "I didn't even take a test."

"So wait. If _you_ didn't take a test, and _I_ didn't take a test, then how did a positive test end up in the garbage?" Alice asked. I shrugged.

"The only other woman in this house or Emmett's that was even in town to take one would be..." I trailed off as Alice's eyes went wide.

"Do you think Emmett knows?" she asked quietly.

"God, no," I said firmly. "He'd be losing his mind if he did."

"Well, it's going to come out eventually," Alice said, shrugging. "I guess it's not really my business. In the meantime, how do we get out of here?"

"Seems like there's only one way," I said, holding up my own gallon of juice in a mock toast. "To nothing in the oven."

"Cheers," Alice agreed grimly, taking a long drink.

X

**EPOV**

By the time I got back to the Hales's, Rosalie and Alice had already disappeared upstairs. The Hales did not look excited to see me, even by their usual standards, but they seemed to be holding their tongues for the moment. I wasn't looking forward to that explosion.

I handed the paper pharmacy bag to Mrs. Hale, who took it upstairs without a word.

I looked at Jasper as I sat down, but he just shook his head minutely, not meeting my gaze.

"I just don't understand how this could happen," Mrs. Hale finally burst out as she returned to the living room. "We've been so careful with you kids."

"Mom, _really_?" Jasper asked incredulously. "You're never here. We're teenagers. What do you expect?"

I really, _really_ wished Jasper would stop talking. It wasn't like I could exactly deny that Rosalie and I were having sex, given the circumstances, but I really didn't need him drawing extra attention to the fact. Parental instincts might prevent them from killing him, but I got the distinct feeling that I wouldn't be so lucky.

"But you should have been careful," Mrs. Hale argued. Jasper gaped at her.

"Again, I have to ask, seriously? I've been with Alice for almost three years. You think I don't care about her enough to be careful? We're always careful!" he said, his voice rising. Oh goody, we were going to get a prime time showing of angry Jasper. I couldn't think of a more inopportune time for that.

I sunk into my chair, trying to make myself very, very small and inconspicuous, two traits that I have never in my life possessed. Sure enough, I was unsuccessful. Mrs. Hale's eyes turned to me, narrowing sharply.

"Oh, stop it," Jasper said before she could start in on me. "Don't act like he's taking advantage of your precious little girl. You didn't seem to care when someone _was_."

"Jasper," Mr. McCarty started warningly.

"What? It's the truth. She told you Royce _raped_ her. And you just ignored it and tried to villianize Emmett! So stop trying to do the concerned, involved parent thing just because now there's a problem you might not be able to ignore until it goes away."

Jasper was definitely yelling now. He got to his feet, the veins in his neck standing out. I'm not even going to try to act tough, he was scaring the shit out of me.

"You weren't even here when it was happening! You're _never_ here! Alice heard it and I had to _break her fucking door down because the bastard you insisted she date for your own fucking good was raping her_. And that's fine. That's how we've always done things. It's the Hale way, right? But you don't get to just waltz in here and suddenly try to act like a parent!"

Oh god. It was like watching a train wreck. No, it was more spectacular than that. It was like watching a plane crash into a building full of blind bunnies. It was horrifying and catastrophic, but something about it just made me want to burst out in completely inappropriate giggles. There was nothing actually funny about it. Actually, everything he said horrified me to the bone. It was like being tickled - you know it's a panic reaction, even though you're laughing.

And I could do nothing to stop it.

"You know what, Jasper, like it or not, we are your parents! This needs taken care of, and it's our job to make sure that happens, whether you agree with us or not. _Now sit down_," Mr. Hale said, ending on a slight hiss.

"You know we travel because it's what's best for our family," Mrs. Hale said. Oddly enough, she now seemed to be trying to appeal to Jasper, almost pleading.

"Does this _look_ like what's best for our family?" Jasper asked sharply. Mrs. Hale paused, her lips pursed.

"We're doing the best we can," she said finally. "We thought we could trust the two of you."

"Jesus fucking Christ," Jasper breathed.

"Language," Mr. Hale interrupted him warningly. I thought it was odd he was taking offense now, after that last outburst, but who was I to judge?

"We're _teenagers_," Jasper said, stressing the term. "Things happen in life, to everyone. But we're teenagers and when something happens to us, it's a hell of a lot bigger of a deal than normal. We're not supposed to be left to deal with that alone."

"We thought we had taught you how important it was to use protection-" Mrs. Hale began.

"_I'm not talking about the fucking pregnancy!_" Jasper shouted. "Goddammit, Mom, I'm talking about Rose. You can't just walk around with your eyes closed hoping that what happened will stop being a thing! She told you, and you ignored her. She's a teenager and she needs your help! I mean, Jesus, this could be Royce's kid! Have you thought about that? What if it's a rape baby? How much do you think _that_ will fuck her up?"

If Rosalie was pregnant, it wasn't Royce's. We had been together four months, intimately, and she had been on the rag three times. I kept careful track of it, because you know, I'm a mature fucker, and I know it happens to every woman and it's a beautiful natural thing, blah blah blah, but that just wasn't my thing. Actually, she was about due to start again.

Did pregnancy tests work before a missed period? I was almost sure I had heard some "five days before your missed period" crap on TV at some point, but well, it didn't really apply to me so I couldn't be sure.

Mr. and Mrs. Hale didn't answer. I guess they had no words for that one. Even though I knew the truth, I wasn't about to contradict Jasper. First, I didn't really want the attention at this minute. Second, I thought it was a pretty smart move on Jasper's part. Maybe it would wake them up. I've been pretty sure for awhile that Rosalie could use some help actually dealing with what happened, and if this was the catalyst her parents needed to finally come to terms with it and help her, all the better.

There was a primal, instinctual part of my mind that absolutely raged against the idea of Rosalie being pregnant with that scum's kid, but I beat it down. It wasn't true. No reason to get mad about it.

What followed was the longest, heaviest, most uncomfortable silence that I had ever experienced in my life. And to put that in perspective, I had had weapons trained on me while fathers watched me dress and their daughters hid under the covers. So that's saying something.

The silence was finally broken by the sound of the bathroom door opening and shutting upstairs, followed by the sound of Alice and Rosalie's feet on the stairs. Alice approached Mrs. Hale timidly, holding out her test.

"Negative," Mrs. Hale reported.

All eyes in the room snapped to Rosalie. Her arms were crossed over her chest, and she was glaring at her mom, but she made no move to hand over the test.

Oh fucking shit goddammit, it was her. It was Rosalie. We were pregnant.

I couldn't get anything but the simple thought to process. I had absolutely no reaction slated for this. I wasn't exactly the type of guy to call foul and leave, or something, or try to get out of my responsibilities, but I wasn't the type of guy who was ready to be a father, either.

So I just sat there.

Eventually Mrs. Hale stepped closer to her, her hand extended, and after a pause, Rosalie dropped the test into her hand, not meeting her eyes.

I tried not to think of the fact that they were just passing around urine tests like pens. It seemed grossly unsanitary.

"Negative," Mrs. Hale finally said. It seemed like the room let out a collective breath. I nearly fainted. Just nearly went into a full-out swooning, fainting fit, I was so fucking relieved.

And then the strangest thing happened.

Mrs. Hale took a last step towards Rosalie, opening her arms, and Rosalie just kind of crumpled into them, breaking down completely. I was at a loss. I could not for the life of me understand what there was to cry about. This was good, right? No one wanted Rosalie to be pregnant, right?

Mrs. Hale muttered something into Rosalie's hair and Alice walked over, grabbing my jacket sleeve and hauling me out of my chair. She jerked her head pointedly towards the door and led me to it, Jasper close behind us.

"That was really risky, Jasper," Alice said once we were outside and the door had clicked shut.

"It had to be done," Jasper answered, pulling his cigarettes out of his pocket and lighting one before handing the pack to me. I took one out gratefully.

"You heard all of that?" I asked. Alice looked amused.

"Well, yeah, we were just upstairs. I'm pretty sure people heard Jasper in Dubai," she said.

"Rose needs help, we all know it," Jasper said, shrugging.

"Did you really break down her door?" I asked, something he said unsticking in my mind. Jasper nodded, exhaling slowly, sending smoke and vapor soaring up into the air.

"Yeah. Held a knife to Royce's throat and threatened to cut off his dick, too," he said calmly.

"Nice," I said. Jasper just nodded, drawing on his cigarette.

"Anyway, maybe now your parents will help her," Alice said. "I mean, even if she's not pregnant, if that's the wake up call it took..." she trailed off, chewing her lip.

"You didn't piss for her?" Jasper asked, looking surprised. I hadn't even thought of that. My stomach instantly twisted itself in knots. Alice sighed.

"No, Jazz, neither of us are pregnant," she said. "Just like we told you from the beginning."

"Well, someone's pregnant," I said. "If it's not Rose, and it's not you..."

Alice just looked at me like it should be obvious. It finally hit me after a second and I shook my head.

"No way, my mom's like forty-five," I said.

"It's either that, or someone ditched the test in your garbage can to avoid this whole scene at their house," Alice said. She seemed to think about it. "That would be pretty smart, actually."

Her tone of voice made it clear that she was just thinking out loud, and that she didn't really believe it. I couldn't believe my mom could be pregnant, though. I mean, she had to be well past baby-making prime, right? Didn't women pretty much dry up once they hit forty?

Aside from that, it would mean that she had actually, you know, _done it_. Pretty recently. And that was just... gross.

I think we've established that I have the mentality of a small child at inopportune times, right? We've covered that? Good.

"Do you think Dr. Cullen knows?" Jasper asked.

"Dude," I groaned.

"I kind of doubt anyone knows. I mean, especially at her age, she might be waiting to see what happens," Alice said. I raised an eyebrow at her. "I mean, you know, her body might not be able to handle it and it might not make it to term."

Well, there's a depressing series of thoughts.

On top of that, how would Mom react if she lost a kid? I mean, I know she had miscarried before, but that was when Dad was still alive.

None of this was something I could voice, so I cast around for a safe subject. Not really able to come up with anything, I remembered my earlier conversation with Jasper.

"Hey Alice, what do you want to do for Valentines Day? Jasper was wondering earlier," I said. Jasper shot me a mutinous glare. Oh well, at least we weren't talking about babies and miscarriages and crap anymore.  
I shoved all of that into a file in the back of my mind, labelled it to be dealt with later, and tossed it away.

"I want to go ice skating," Alice said, grinning.

"See man? Skating. Simple," I said. Jasper just continued to glare at me. Whatever. Now that we had a starting point, I could help him. I already had an idea.

X

**RPOV**

I was exhausted. Every muscle in my body ached, my eyes burned from hours of crying. My hair was stuck to the side of my head where my mom had smoothed it, a nervous gesture of comfort that she hadn't used on me or Jasper since we were small, for hours earlier that day.

But I felt better. I had been trying not to think about it. Trying not to acknowledge how it had actually felt when she hadn't believed me.

But she did now. Or, even if she didn't want to, she couldn't find any more ways to ignore it, either.

She and Dad were still leaving again by the middle of the week. I had figured they would. Jasper's speech hadn't been enough to change that. But this was a start. I had an emergency appointment with Dr. Cullen on Monday, and repeating appointments every other Monday from then on. Alice was excited, since they were the session right after hers and so we could ride together instead of her having to treck all the way into town and then back across to the school afterwards.

It was a start at least. I was pretty sure that there was still a long way to go, but it was a start.

X

**AN**: Well, if anything, this chapter was eventful, yeah? Thanks to everyone who participated in the vote last chapter! Of course, this is a story arc, not just a one-chapter deal, so if it wasn't all that you were hoping or you felt like nothing was resolved, fear not, it's just the beginning.

Did you like it? Love it? Hate it? Want to set it on fire and watch it burn? Well, tell me about it. Of course, please be tactful. There's really no need for flames, you know. Ever.

Also, beginning with this chapter I'm restarting something I've done with other stories in the past! Every reviewer will recieve a preview of the next chapter! It's going to be a pretty good one this time around, so I hope you're as excited as I am! Love to you all, see you next time!


	27. Round Twenty-Six

**Not Without a Fight**  
Annaleise Marie

**Round Twenty-Six**

**AN**: Oh gosh, such wonderful feedback since the last update! Thanks so much to everyone who read, especially those of you who took a second to drop me a line! To my anonymous reviewers, I'm sorry that I was unable to send you the preview for this chapter, but if you'd like to receive them in the future, I really need an email address from you or you'll have to make an account. Please note that FFn's spam filter recognizes and deletes links in reviews, so you'll have to write out the address differently. For example, when I send my address on here, it becomes annanocturnal at gmail dot com. Or, you know, you could just email me at that address there. Just put "Chapter Preview" or something in the subject line so I know what it's about!

As a head's up, this chapter contains one of those rare 3rd POV situations. I felt like the situation needed to be in the story, but I couldn't imagine Rose or Emmett being involved. So brace yourselves for that, if you hate 3rd POV as much as I do.

Also, as with every other chapter with a lemon, if any of you are under eighteen or legal age in your respective country _keep it to yourself_. I absolutely _do not_ want to know. As far as I know, every one of my readers are adults, in accordinance with law.

Anyway, moving steadily along. I own a candle that makes my room smell like fresh laundry even though I haven't done laundry in a week so I'm just a big fat cheater, but I do not own Twilight. That would be Stephanie Meyer.

X

**EPOV**

Life is pretty awkward when your mom might be pregnant, and you know she might be pregnant, but she's not telling you that she might be pregnant. Especially when she does insist that you go grocery shopping with her.

What do you even talk about? "_Oh, the lettuce looks especially fresh today, and by the way congrats on that thing growing in your uterus I was sure it was a barren desert by now._"

Yeah, I didn't think so, somehow.

"So have you decided on a college?" Mom asked, holding up a head of lettuce to inspect for wilt or slugs or whatever the fuck it was you inspected lettuce for.

"George Mason," I said, leaning with my forearms on the cart. "It'll be most convenient, with the Metro system."

"You have the Jeep," she said. "You should go to whichever school you think is best. Besides, Maryland has a train system, too."

"I figured I'd cut my losses and go somewhere we haven't lived yet, that way if we end up moving in June you might not have a problem with it being near my school," I said honestly. "I don't want to move twice in two months."

"I don't think you need to worry about that anymore," she said, tossing the lettuce into the cart.

"Yeah?" I asked. "Why's that?"

_Just freaking tell me and get it over with, already._

"I just think maybe we've found a place we fit," she said, shrugging. I let my head drop to my forearms. "Emmett?"

"Yeah, no, I'm okay," I said. I sighed and looked up at her. "That's it, though? That's the whole reason?"

Mom looked puzzled. Well, she was a good actor, for someone who completely lost her cool so often.

"I know you're not necessarily on board with the idea of me and Carlisle seeing each other, dear, but you know, your father's been gone for a very long time and-"

"Mom, jeez, this isn't about Dad," I said. "I mean, yeah, I guess I still don't really think you're ready to be seeing someone, given, you know, the anniversary, but if he makes you happy, whatever."

"I guess that's about the closest thing to a blessing I can expect, huh?"

"Pretty much."

I steered the cart into the next aisle.

"Anyway, I guess I just think it's kind of weird that you're basing huge life decisions on a guy you've been seeing for what, four or five months?" I said.

"You were pretty up in arms about not moving when it was going to take you away from Rosalie," she pointed out. She was right, but I wasn't about to give in.

"Yeah, but you're, you know, different about that sort of thing, Mom," I said. "Unless it's not just Carlisle? Or, not just a dating thing, anyway?"

_For the love of god, tell me!_

"Honestly, Emmett," Mom sighed, grabbing a loaf of bread off the shelf and tossing it into the cart. I caught it and sat it in the child's seat. If I didn't, she would throw a couple cans of soup on top of it in the next aisle and we'd be having sandwiches and toast that roughly resembled the shape of a candy bar for the next week.

"I'm just saying," I said, shrugging.

"If there's anything you need to know regarding my personal business, I'll be sure to let you know," she said. I felt like screaming.

"You know, if there is anything, now would be a pretty ideal time to tell me," I said. "I mean, we don't see each other much with you working nights and me being in school and all."

"How about this," Mom said, turning to me abruptly. I planted my feet to avoid pushing the cart into her. "You tell me what exactly it is you're getting at, and I'll tell you whether it's an appropriate discussion to have in aisle three of the grocery store."

"Would aisle six be better?" I couldn't help it. Mom looked taken aback. I held up my hands in surrender. I got it, the issue was the public setting. No big deal.

"Have you picked a major yet?" she asked, changing the subject. I sighed.

"Pre-med," I said wryly. "I'm considering becoming a pediatrician. Never know when you'll need a good pediatrician in the family."

Mom opened her mouth to say something, then snapped it closed. I just stared at her.

"Emmett," she said in that warning do-not-cross-me patented Mom voice. I wondered if that would rise in strength after she had another kid. The thought was scary.

"I don't know," I relented. "I'm considering an educational major, but it doesn't really matter yet. Most majors require the same core classes, so I can get those out of the way before I decide."

"Hmm," she muttered, checking her shopping list.

"So Mr. and Mrs. Hale are back in town," I said, changing tactics.

"Can't say I'm excited," she mumbled. I guess her fight with Mrs. Hale was still pretty fresh in her memory.

"Yeah, it was something of a warzone over there yesterday," I said, trying to sound nonchalant. "Some dogs or something tore into the trash on the curb, both of ours, and they found this positive pregnancy test."

"Hmm," Mom muttered again. But her eyes had stopped moving as she appeared to skim the list.

She didn't say anything more. That sealed it. Because see, if it wasn't hers, the response would have been something similar to a nuclear meltdown at the idea of my life being over in the face of teen parenthood.

I hadn't tricked her, she just didn't have anything to say because she knew now, beyond a doubt, that we both knew the truth.

Mom was definitely pregnant.

X

The ride home was unnervingly quiet. I tried to make conversation a few times, and once I even straight up asked Mom if she had considered names yet, "because I'm particularly partial to the name Nan, you know," hoping that at the very least suggesting naming her child after my dog would make her mad enough to talk about it. But no luck.

I helped her put the groceries away in silence and then slipped out and across the lawn to Rosalie's house. Alice was sitting on the porch, her hands clasped around a steaming mug of coffee.

"Why are you out here? It's like ten fucking degrees," I asked, my words sending up steam from my breath as if to punctuate my point.

"Jasper and his dad are having a 'talk' about how things are going to work from now on," she said, imitating Mr. Hale's stern monotone.

"Ah," I said. "Probably not a good time to go in there, then."

"Nope," Alice agreed, shaking her head. "Rose is in the garage, though," she added, nodding in that direction.

"Thanks," I said. I shrugged my jacket off and handed it to her. Even with her coffee and her own coat, she had to be getting cold out here. She smiled and I headed for the garage.

The large door was open and as I walked through I saw Rosalie's feet sticking out from under the BMW. I knocked on the hood and heard a thump and then a muffled curse before she rolled out into view. She had a smudge of oil on her forehead and her hair was twisted up in a messy knot. A large Dickies work shirt was pulled over a cami, the lace edge just visible over the top closure. All in all, she looked nothing like her usual put-together self, and it was somehow sexy as hell.

"Trying to collapse the car on me?" she asked. I smirked and straightened up from where I had been leaning on the car.

"What are you doing?" I asked, ignoring the question. Rosalie rolled her eyes.

"Me? I'm just writing the next great American novel, of course," she said. I laughed. "Jasper wore out the clutch. I'm replacing it."

"Not great with a stick?"

"I'd hope not. Alice would be heartbroken," she said, grabbing the bumper and rolling back under the car without any further delay. I crouched down, peering under the frame.

"I see you're feeling better," I said. She shrugged.

"There's something to be said for not being viewed as a lying attention whore," she said. "Besides, the parents have been uncharacteristically subdued since Jasper's outburst."

"I would imagine," I said. Jasper's outburst had been terrifying in its own rite, but it seemed to have done the trick. Which was definitely a good thing. I hadn't seen Rosalie this laid back since before she had told her parents the first time.

"Yeah, well, it's actually something of a miracle. I didn't think anything could break through their willing fog of naivete," she said. "So have you talked to your mom?"

"Sort of. She's not too happy with me. Apparently I picked a bit too public of a forum to air the happy news," I said, shrugging.

"Yeah, sounds like you," she laughed. I nodded.

"The good thing is, this seems like enough to stop the move for good," I said. "She was pretty adament about that."

"Well then at least we'll definitely be in the same place on breaks next year," she said.

"It's something," I agreed. She nodded. "So, first appointment with Dr. Cullen tomorrow morning?"

"Yeah. That's why I've got to get this fixed," she said, groping around on the cement beside her for her wrench.

"I could give you a ride," I offered.

"I bet you could," she said, grinning. "That's not exactly the type of therapy I'm looking for, though."

"No?" I asked, grinning. I was pretty sure that sort of therapy was always helpful.

"Well, not the only therapy, anyway. Besides, Alice has her appointment right after mine, so I've got her for emotional support, and I don't want you to miss school," she explained.

"We all know what a tragedy that would be," I said dryly.

"Yeah well, you're walking a mighty fine line with your mom right now," she said, grabbing the oil rag from the ground beside her and rolling back out from under the car. I stood up, my knees cracking.

"So what are your plans for the rest of the day?" I asked as she stood up and started rubbing the oil from her hands. She shrugged.

"Well, I was hoping to hang out with this really sweet, funny guy," she said, smirking at me.

"Sweet and funny can only get you so far. He'd better be sexy as hell, too," I said, playing along. She shrugged, only the smallest smile hinting at the joke.

"He's alright, I guess," she said noncommittally.

"Just alright?" I asked, feeling a grin spread across my face. I took three long strides to stand in front of her, stopping when my chest was barely touching hers. She didn't move, holding her ground. "You shouldn't settle for just alright."

"What can I say, I guess I'm in love with the goofball," she said, grinning up at me. I fucking loved hearing that. It was getting ridiculous, how much it affected me. It was all I could do to stop myself from pushing her against her work table and fucking her senseless.

"You can't play this game with me when your parents are home," I said quietly. She ran her fingers up my arm, making the muscles there twitch and a shudder to run through me.

"Your place?" she asked. I shook my head.

"My mom's home," I explained. "She goes to work around seven though."

"My parents are really weird about the whole out on school nights thing," she said. This was frustrating. I hadn't realized how handy it had been having them out of town all the time. Well, on some levels, anyway.

"When do they leave again?" I asked.

"Wednesday," she said. I groaned.

"Yeah, no, fuck that," I said. I leaned in closer, forcing her to take a step back, and pressed the control for the garage door. It started to lower with the clank of metal and grinding of the small motor. "I'm not waiting until Wednesday."

Rosalie shook her head and I paused. What was wrong?

"Are you okay?" I asked, concerned at the sudden change in her demeanor. A few minutes ago she had seemed all for this. Was it about doing it in the garage? Because really, this was the girl that I had fucked in the closet during her parent's Christmas party and who had blown me in the school library. Weird settings seemed to be okay with her.

"Just clearing some unwelcome thoughts," she said, shaking her head again. I ran a hand through my hair, exhaling hard. So that was it. She was thinking about the whole thing with Royce. Did she think about that every time? I really didn't want her associating what we did with what he had done to her.

"Look, this weekend's been pretty intense for you," I said carefully. "If you need time-"

"Don't act like I'm about to break," she said, appearing taken aback. I couldn't think of what to say. I was unsure of my options. On the one hand, I really fucking wanted her. _Really_. But on the other hand, I didn't want it to happen with that on her mind. Maybe it was selfish or whatever, but I couldn't accept even the thought of Royce being involved in that part of us. I wanted it to be only me.

"I just want you to be okay," I said. "Really okay. I don't want you to associate what happened with Royce with this."

Maybe that was unrealistic. Rosalie stared at me for a second, looking almost apologetic. I got the feeling she knew that it would be impossible to keep the two completely separate. Hell, I knew it. When that was your first experience with sex, how could you not associate it? All I could really do was make sure that we were the complete fucking opposite of that.

"I _am_ okay," she finally said, standing up on her tiptoes to kiss me.

My hands went to her waist, hooking my fingers in her belt loops and pulling her against me. She reached around with one hand to cup the back of my head, deepening the kiss. I groaned and stepped forward, forcing her to move back until her back hit the work table. She braced her palms against the edge and I lifted her up to sit on the edge. I settled between her legs as our kissing turned into a battle, each fighting for dominance until she pulled away, her breathing uneven and her lips wonderfuly swollen.

"You know we have to be pretty quick, right?" she asked as I started kissing from her neck and down to her shoulder, pushing the collar of her work shirt to the side to expose more skin, sucking gently before running my tongue back up to her jaw, reveling in the shudder it sent through her.

"Babe, it's been like four days already," I said, reaching for the button on her jeans and undoing it and the zipper in one fluid motion. "I really don't think that's going to be a problem."

"Oh, four days, how you've suffered," she said. The accompanying laugh was cut off as I slid my hand into her panties and slipped a finger between her folds, turning it into a shuddering sigh. I circled her clit lightly and she pushed her hips against my hand, seeking more pressure. She was already wet, her underwear soaked and her skin slippery. I pushed my finger inside of her, making her gasp. I groaned myself at the feeling of her slick inner walls grasping at my finger.

"Seems like you want it pretty bad, too," I said, smirking. Her eyes, dark with lust, met mine, and she grabbed my shirt, pulling me to her to kiss her again, her hips shifting against me. I pulled my hand away and she whimpered at the loss before I tugged at her waistband. She put her hands down on the edge of the table again, lifting her hips to let me pull her pants and underwear off all at once. She kicked off her shoes and pushed her pants off her legs with her feet.

I stepped back to shuck my own pants, Rosalie watching me the whole time, her expression greedy. I paused just long enough to pull a condom from my pocket - I had taken to carrying one at all times after the Christmas closet incident - and then I was pulling her closer to the edge of the table, our lips battling fiercly once more. She bit my lower lip softly before pulling it into her mouth, soothing it with her tongue, and I moaned. I tore open the condom wrapper and hurried to put it on as she slid her hands under my shirt, running her fingers along the tense muscles of my stomach and chest, dragging her nails along the skin, making me shudder. It was all I could do to focus enough to actually put the damned thing on correctly.

I lined himself up, still gripping her hips, and entered her in one quick thrust. She cried out, the sound muffled by my mouth on hers. Her muscles clenched and I dug my fingers into her hips and pulled my mouth from hers, my jaw clenched and my eyes closed as I tried to regain control of myself.

She took a deep breath, shifting her hips slightly as she sought friction.

"Fuck, babe..." I groaned. She could only nod, and I laughed. After another moment I started thrusting, shallow at first, and then longer, deeper. Her nails dug into my shoulders and I let out that fucking growl that she somehow always seemed to pull out of me. She shifted her hips and I hit a spot deep inside of her that made her cry out, her back arching against me.

"God, Emmett," she groaned. "Harder!"

I complied eagerly, pounding into her, sweat dampening my brow and shoulders. She moaned loudly, glad that the garage wasn't connected to their house. There was no way that we wouldn't have been heard if it was.

"Fuck," I moaned again. I was getting close, but I wanted her to come first. I moved one hand to rub her clit in time with my thrusts and felt my muscles start to spasm, grasping at me. "Come, babe," I growled. She arched her back again, letting me reach impossibly deep, bottoming out completely with each thrust. Almost... "Come on, babe, I want to feel you come on my cock," I hissed in her ear.

She cried out, louder than before, tightening around my dick, milking me. Her nails dug harder into my shoulders, and with one last hard thrust I reached the edge, swearing loudly. I emptied myself inside her, groaning as her muscles continued to twitch around me, pulling every last drop from me.

She slumped against my chest, gasping for breath, her legs shaking. My own felt weak with my release and I gripped the table hard to stay on my feet. We were quiet as we both tried to collect ourselves and then I laughed, slightly breathless, my soul light in the afterglow of release.

"And you wanted to wait until Wednesday for that," I said.

X

**3rd POV**

As a medical professional, Carlisle knew he should be more calm and collected. Logically, he knew that. Unfortunately, logic had nothing to do with the situation.

When Esme had asked him to come over, citing the "need to talk", he had assumed the worst. Or, what he had thought would be the worst: that she had decided to move after all. But no, he had been very wrong on both counts.

"You're sure?" he finally gathered himself enough to ask.

"Pretty sure," she said. "It's been over a month, and the test was positive."

Carlisle exhaled, leaning back on the couch.

"Wow," he said. He couldn't think of much else as a response.

"I know it's kind of a lot to take in," Esme said.

"I just... How?" he asked. Esme smiled quizzically.

"I'm pretty sure you were there? The Hales's Christmas party? Lots of wine, music..." she said. Carlisle shook his head.

"I know, I know. I just... God. A baby," he said. "I just don't... A baby..."

"It's going to be okay, you know. I mean, we've both already done this once," Esme said. She wasn't fazed by Carlisle's apparent freakout. Dale had acted much the same way when he found out about Emmett. It just took awhile for it to sink in.

"Yeah, but we were almost done. Edward and Emmett are both leaving for college in the fall. And we're not... I mean, we're not in a position to be having a baby together," he said, running his hands through his hair, making the blond locks stand on end. Esme smoothed them back.

"It may not be ideal, but it's not all bad. Did I want to start over as a mom at forty-five? No, of course not. But it really will be okay," she said.

"How can you be so calm about this?" Carlisle asked. Esme shrugged.

"I guess it's just not the worst thing I could imagine," she said. Carlisle sighed.

"It's kind of early," he said. Esme nodded. She wasn't sure if he meant in their relationship, or in the pregnancy. Both were true enough.

"It'll work out, one way or another," she said. She realized she wasn't sure which one she was talking about, either.

X

**RPOV**

Dr. Cullen's office was a calming sort of place. It was located on the top floor of the tallest building in town - a whole five floors, if you can believe it in this dinky little town - and it was furnished all in dark wood and plush, comfortable chairs and a couch. I eyed the couch when he ushered me in for my appointment.

"Should I lie down?" I asked. Dr. Cullen smiled kindly.

"If you're more comfortable that way," he said. I shook my head and sat down in an overstuffed chair. He sat down in the one opposite and propped his feet up on the coffee table between us. I was a little taken aback. He seemed too relaxed to be a doctor.

"Um..." I started after we had sat in silence for a few moments. "I'm sorry, I really don't know how this whole thing is supposed to work."

"Why don't we start with what brings you here today," he said, still smiling. "What brought you to make this appointment."

I took a deep breath. That was quite a question.

"About... well, almost a year ago, actually, I was dating this guy. That in itself is a long story, involving my parents and his parents and a lot of other crap... But I guess you probably know a lot of it, since you know them, right?" I asked. He shrugged.

"I'd rather hear it from you than reach my own conclusions. Who knows what the truth is? Actually, it's not so much the truth that matters, as what you think and what you feel about it," he said. I took a second to digest that before deciding it was fair enough.

"My parents wanted me to date this guy, because he's their boss's son. I guess that's not super important, really, except that it proves that I didn't want to be with this guy in the first place," I started. He nodded but didn't say anything. "So for a while things were pretty normal, I guess. But then it turned pretty bad. Like, really bad..."

I told him the whole story, skipping any uneccessary detail. I managed to keep dry eyes through the whole thing. I was pretty proud of that.

"So I guess everyone thinks I'm not dealing with it well on my own, and that I need help," I said.

"Do you think they're right?" Dr. Cullen asked. I bit my lip, thinking about it. "Why don't you think about it this week, and we'll pick up there next Monday. I do think I can help you cope with this, Rosalie, but you have to want help."

He said it kindly enough. I didn't feel like he was accusing me of wasting his time. And he had a point. Everyone said it was obvious that I needed help. But did I think I did? I wanted Mom and Dad to believe me... I didn't want them to think of me as a liar... but did I really need therapy? Or was I functioning well enough on my own?

It was definitely something to think about.

X

**AN**: This chapter got rewritten like three times, so if anything about the flow or anything seems off, that would probably be it and I do apologize. I hope you enjoyed it, anyway!

As a reminder for anyone who might not have checked it out, or didn't know, I also have a story called "Not Without a Fight: Rematch", which tells Alice and Jasper's story from different points in their relationship, most taking place before this story. So if you enjoy this story's Alice and Jasper, I highly recommend checking it out! So far the storylines have included the day they met, the day Alice's mom left, the "Royce Incident" as recalled by Jasper, and their 'first time'. I also accept requests for it, so that's always fun.

Now, all reviewers will once more receive a preview for the next chapter, hopefully much quicker than last time! I look forward to hearing from you, and thanks so much for reading! I hope to see you next chapter!


	28. Round Twenty-Seven

**Not Without a Fight**  
Annaleise Marie

**Round Twenty-Seven**

**AN**: Oh I just loved the feedback from last chapter. I got so many people actually telling me what they liked about it, and what they thought about the situation and gosh, it was just so nice to hear from you guys! Thanks so much for taking a second to drop such nice messages! Because of that, I worked extra-hard to get this chapter out speedy quick!

Things take a bit of a dark turn this chapter. So get ready for that. Those of you who recieved the preview already have a bit of an idea about it, but it's sure to be a bumpy ride, anyway. Hope you enjoy it! :D

I own a complete and total inability to give a fuck how Stephanie Meyer's first name is spelled, so I cycle between Stephenie and Stephanie, but I do not own Twilight. That would be, you know, Steph-whoza-whatsit.

X

**RPOV**

In most ways, Forks High is a fairly typical high school experience. Some genuinely good people, some completely poisonous assholes, dull classes, teachers who completely checked out years ago, jaded from too many years of dealing with teachers who just don't care, crappy cafeteria food... Pretty normal stuff.

But there was always one thing that stuck in my mind as simultaneously terrible and awesome all at once. Gym.

Forks High requires each student to acquire at least one credit for physical education, but the administration frankly could not care less when you do it. As a result, Bella, myself, and a couple of other senior girls were tossed in with a bunch of freshmen for our senior year, having put it off every other year.

"So how did your appointment go?" Bella asked quietly as we changed for class. I shrugged.

"I don't know, I'm still trying to decide," I said, gathering my hair up to secure with an elastic. I was just about to check the mirror in my locker to make sure that none of it was sticking up or doing anything else weird, but I had just barely caught a glimpse of myself when the door was slammed shut.

I followed the perfectly-manicured hand up a long, tanned arm to come face-to-face with Lauren Mallory. Her face was twisted into a horrible mix of anger and disgust. I rolled my eyes.

"What do you want, Lauren?" I asked. She smirked.

"I just wanted to let you know just how pathetic I think you are," she said. I raised an eyebrow at her.

"I don't give a fuck what you think of me, since given your past behavior I'm sure you couldn't recognize pathetic if it came up and slapped you in the face," I informed her. She sneered at me.

"I can't believe you're acting all high and mighty with me," she spat. "You're just a liar and a slut, and you had the nerve to say anything to me?"

"Why don't you just tell me what you're on about, Lauren? I thought we had covered the whole Emmett thing already. He's with me; get over it," I said, bending over to lace up my tennis shoes.

"Only because you're such a fucking liar. I wonder how he'll react when he sees the _real_ you. Which he will, practically the whole school has already seen it. Did you really tell him you were _raped_? That's so sick, you know, there are people who really have been abused and you're just using it as a convenient excuse. That's just so low I can't even-"

"What are you talking about?" I asked. I had frozen, still bent over with my laces in my hand, but now I was staring up at Lauren. I couldn't process what she was saying. How did she even know about the rape? And she was accusing me of lying about it? And what was Emmett going to see?

I was starting to shake. Lauren sneered at me, holding out her phone. After a pause Bella took it from her, scrolling through the open page. She gasped, her hand going to her mouth.

"Rose..." she started, her voice shaking, "Royce put up a post claiming you're lying to get back at him for breaking up with you. There's a whole text section, and a picture from when you went there last month... and..."

She trailed off. I was trying to remember how to breathe. Bella cleared her throat and took in a shaky breath.

"And there's a video," she said. "He says it proves that what you guys did was consensual."

"And it proves that you're really nothing more than a lying slut," Lauren added and my vision went red.

X

**EPOV**

Monday was weird. I mean, it was always weird when Alice wasn't in first period, because it seemed like without a current crisis, Jasper and I didn't have a lot to talk about. But this was weirder than normal.

People were checking their phones a lot. Like, way more than normal. And they kept throwing me not-so-subtle looks. Some were pitying, some surprised, and a few even looked... scared.

By lunch I was about to lose my mind. By Biology I was sure I was about to completely lose my shit on someone if it didn't stop.

"Emmett?"

"_What_?" I snapped. I looked up to see Angela Weber, this mousy but generally friendly girl I had seen with Bella a few times. She looked simultaneously angry and horribly uncomfortable. A guy who I recognized as her boyfriend was standing beside her.

"Sorry," she said quickly. "I just... There's something Ben needs to tell you." She glared at her boyfriend and nudged him pointedly. Ben, for his part, didn't look like he wanted to tell me anything ever. He looked massively uncomfortable, shifting from one foot to another, his hands shoved deep into his pockets.

"Well, you know, there's this porno called _Charlie's Anal_," Ben said. "It's a spoof of _Charlie's Angels_, you know."

"Uh... okay," I said. I didn't even know this guy, and he was talking to me about porn? I knew this place was weird, but this had to be a whole new level.

"Well, when we saw... you know, the video, Ben recognized the audio track," Angela said. "It's not real. He must have dubbed in the audio from that porno."

I was sure that was just a perfect explanation at its root, but I still had _no_ fucking idea what was going on.

"Wait, back up," I said. "What are you two talking about? Who dubbed what?"

Angela and Ben exchanged nervous looks.

"We just kind of thought you would have seen it by now," Angela said quietly. "I'm so sorry, Emmett, I didn't mean for us to be the ones to break the news."

"What news?" I asked, starting to get impatient. This couldn't be good if they were so nervous about me finding out. Hell, Ben looked more uncomfortable discussing what started this than his knowledge of porn. Which, you know, was pretty impressive if he could recognize random audio.

"Royce King posted a video on the internet... of him and Rosalie," Angela said quietly. I felt my blood run cold and I swear my stomach literally dropped. My pulse seemed to slow, as though it were pushing mud through my veins, and then speed up to triple time.

"What?" I asked. "There's a video?"

"He says that Rosalie is claiming that he raped her, and that the video proves that he didn't," Angela said. "But like we said, when we saw it, Ben recognized the audio. It's not Rose. Whatever sounds were actually there, he replaced."

"I have the video here if you want to see it," Ben said, holding his phone out. I'm sure he thought he was being helpful, but the very last thing I wanted to do was see that video, ever.

"You're sure it's fake?" I asked.

"Well, the video _looks_ real enough, but the audio is definitely fake," he confirmed, slipping his phone back into his pocket. I guess he got the message that I wasn't going to take it.

I felt like someone had punched me in the gut. Royce had not only raped Rosalie, he had video taped it. Then he edited and posted it.

It wasn't to get back at Rosalie. I thought about the last time I had seen him, his promise that he wasn't done with me.

He had done all of this to her to get back at me.

X

**RPOV**

I don't remember standing up. I don't remember grabbing Lauren by her hair. I don't remember slamming her head into the locker. I don't remember her falling down. I don't remember the other girls fleeing the locker room, leaving just Lauren, Bella, and me.

The first thing I remember after Bella's news about the video and Lauren's hissed words was me standing over Lauren, my foot connecting over and over again with her stomach. I wondered why she didn't curl up, try to protect herself. Maybe she was unconscious. My only thought about that was that it was a shame she wouldn't remember this.

I was screaming something unintelligible, each word punctuated by a swift kick to her gut. It may have just been an endless string of profanity. It may have been a cohesive sentence. I don't know. Bella was grabbing the back of my shirt, her feet planted against the linoleum, trying to drag me away but having no luck since the floor was slick.

Lauren had vomited.

It was this that made me stop. This returned me to my body and my mind. I went still and suddenly Bella and I both lurched backwards as I stopped resisting, slipping and falling to the floor with a sick wet smack.

I realized that there were tears running down my face. Bella was still gripping my shirt, muttering something that I couldn't comprehend, one arm wrapped around my shoulders, pinning me to her. I couldn't breathe. My vision didn't seem to be working right, colors and patterns flitting in and out of sight, their edges blurred. Something acrid-smelling was caked on my legs and gym shorts.

That's right. Lauren had vomited.

She gave a pitiful little groan and a sort of a twitch. I didn't feel as vindicated as you would think. I didn't feel angry. I didn't feel sorry. I didn't feel _anything_ anymore. I was completely drained.

Coach Clapp came skidding into the locker room, stopping short at the sight of Lauren lying on the floor, her platinum hair draped through the contents of her own stomach, a spot on her head bleeding, then looked to Bella and me, sitting against the lockers, Bella looking horrified. I don't know how I looked. If I looked the way I felt, I was surprised Coach Clapp could see me at all.

"The principal, both of you," Coach Clapp sputtered. Bella stood up, grabbing my upper arm and hoisting me to my feet. Lauren was stirring now. At least I hadn't killed her, I guess. Coach Clapp reached down and helped her to her feet before guiding her to sit on the long bench between the rows of lockers. "Now," he snapped at us. Bella steered me from the room. I was mildly surprised that my feet cooperated.

When we reached the office we were informed by Mrs. Cope that the principal was already with someone and were directed to sit outside of her office. Mrs. Cope wrinkled her nose disapprovingly at the smell coming off of us. I noticed dully that Lauren hadn't eaten lunch - we were covered in a slimy yellow bile, but not much else. I couldn't even bring myself to be disgusted.

"Don't worry," Bella said quietly. "I mean, you'll probably be suspended because of the zero-tolerance policy about fighting, but they can't really do much more given the circumstances, right?"

I shook my head.

"Don't say anything about the video," I said.

"But Rose-" Bella started. I shook my head harder.

"It was just a fight between two bitchy girls," I said firmly. "I can't let them tell my parents about this."

Bella didn't argue. We sat in silence until Mrs. Greene called us into her office.

X

A week of suspension was Mrs. Greene's verdict, with my return contingent on me attending my next appointment with Dr. Cullen as scheduled to obtain his assurance that I wasn't a danger to other students. So I guess that settled that question, at least. She tore my copy from the triplicate disciplinary form and told me to vacate school grounds within ten minutes. Bella was to accompany me to my locker to get my books and then return to gym.

Lauren was shaken up pretty badly and would be watched for a concussion. She also had a pretty beastly bruise across her right temple, and a cut that turned out to be relatively shallow.

Now, how would I explain it to my parents? A suspension they could probably get over, but their daughter walking into the house in the middle of the day covered in vomit from kicking the shit out of a classmate in the locker room? And then there was Emmett. Had he seen the video? How bad was it? Could it really make it look consensual? Would he decide I was a liar, like Lauren? And my parents... they had just started to believe me. Now this what out there. What if it reached them?

I rested my head on my steering wheel, suddenly sick to my stomach. How had everything gone to such complete shit in a matter of hours?

I jumped as someone knocked on my passenger side window, whipping my head around so fast my neck cracked. Jasper raised his hands in a peaceful gesture, grinning. I unlocked the door and he hopped in.

"Shit, my sister's a scrapper!" he exclaimed immediately. "Didn't know you had it in you, Rose. Truly, I couldn't be more proud if you had lynched Royce outright for this shitshow."

I groaned.

"What are you doing?" I asked. Jasper looked at me with wide eyes.

"Didn't you hear? A water pipe mysteriously burst under the auditorium. They think it's going to take oh, about a week to fix. I can't believe you'd just leave me behind like that. An early out isn't an excuse to abandon your family, you know. I mean, just because I would have time to walk home doesn't mean I should have to."

I stared at him incredulously, taking in his appearance for the first time. He looked... grungy. Mud caked his jeans and there was a streak of dirt across his cheekbone. His hair looked messier than normal under his hat.

"Jasper, you didn't," I said incredulously, staring at him in disbelief.

"Couldn't have been more convenient timing, right?" he went on, shrugging as he lit a cigarette. "I don't know, it's almost spooky." He paused, exhaling while surveying my appearance. "We should probably stop at Alice's on the way home. Get you showered and changed. Gotta say, sis, you don't look good."

There was a loud honk behind me and I looked in my review mirror. There was a long queue of cars built up behind me, all of the students evacuating as a result of the broken pipe.

"I owe you one," I said as I threw the car into gear.

"Sister of mine, you owe me way too many to count by this point."

X

I sat on my porch for a solid hour after I got home before the I heard the Jeep turn onto our road. My stomach lurched and I was sure I was going to be sick.

Emmett pulled into his driveway and climbed out, slamming the door hard behind him. I flinched. He seemed pretty ticked off. He threw the butt of one cigarette down and took out another one, lighting it immediately. I had never seen Emmett actually chain smoke. This must be really bad.

I stood up, walking slowly over to him, my arms crossed over my chest against the cold.

"Hey," I said quietly when I reached him. His jaw was clenched, but he nodded. "I guess you're mad about the video."

"Yeah," Emmett said with a weird sort of laugh. He sounded desperate, in a way.

"I don't know what he did, or what the video makes it look like, but I never lied to you, or anyone," I said, the words coming out in a rush. "I never... wanted that with him. I know what people are saying and how it looks and I'm so sorry you had to see something like-"

"I didn't watch it," he said. That threw me off track for a second.

"You didn't?" I asked.

"Fuck, Rose, I don't want to see a video of you getting raped!" he shouted and then closed his eyes, breathing deeply.

"I thought... Royce said on the page that it makes it look consensual," I said quietly. Emmett took a deep pull off his cigarette and then exhaled, blowing the smoke upwards.

"It's fake," he said. "Ben Cheney recognized the audio from a porn flick."

I stared at him, trying to comprehend what he was telling me.

"Royce dubbed a fucking porno into video he took of you," he snapped.

"Are you... mad at me?" I asked. "Really?" I couldn't believe it. If he knew it was fake, why was he mad at _me_? What had _I_ done? I certainly hadn't agreed to let Royce fucking video tape me!

"What? No, Rose. Fuck. I'm pissed as hell because Royce put a video of him raping you on the internet for everyone to fucking see!" Emmett shouted. I flinched. "And there's nothing I can even fucking do about it because it's not a clean video and I have no idea how to go about getting the fucking original!"

"You could try beating up a random person who's seen it," I said dryly. "It did wonders for me."

Emmett paused, his cigarette halfway to his mouth.

"What?" he asked.

"I beat up Lauren Mallory," I said. He stared at me blankly for a minute. "She called me a liar and a slut, and showed me Royce's post and asked what you would think when you saw it, and I don't know, I just kind of lost it."

Emmett burst out laughing. It was a few minutes before he could respond.

"You couldn't save some of that for Royce?" he asked. I shrugged. He sighed, tossing down the second cigarette. "God, what a long day."

"Well, at least we have a week off to recover," I said.

"Yeah, lucky for the faulty plumbing in that place," he said.

"I think Jasper broke the pipe," I said quietly. Emmett stared at me incredulously for a second.

"Always a step ahead isn't he?" he asked. I shrugged, grinning.

"Is your mom working tonight?" I asked.

"Yeah, but you can't come over, can you? Your parents are still in town," he said.

"I'll figure it out," I said. "I just really don't feel like being alone tonight to think about all of this."

"Whatever you want, babe," he said, sighing and leaning back against the Jeep. "I may need you to keep me calm, anyway. I was halfway to Insight before I calmed down enough to turn around before I actually killed him."

"I may not be willing to stop you this time," I said.

I had no idea what I was going to do, but this time, Royce definitely needed to pay. Deeply. And in a way he wouldn't soon forget. It was no longer enough to just be left alone. I wanted him gone.

X

**AN**: Phew, what a chapter, yeah? There's a reason people hate Mondays, y'know, and these poor guys have just had a doozy of one.

I don't actually have a ton to say about this chapter... I wrote it out pretty quickly because of the response from the people who got the preview (apparently it was a pretty mean tease) so I haven't had a lot of time to develop a lot of deep and interesting thoughts on it. Cause you know, my thoughts on my chapters are usually just so _interesting_ and _deep_. /snort

Okay, same as last time! Reviewers get a preview of the next chapter! This was a very taxing chapter to write, so I hope some of you will drop me a line, keep me going. Lol. I look forward to hearing from you!


	29. Round Twenty-Eight

**Not Without a Fight**  
Annaleise Marie

**Round Twenty-Eight**

**AN**: You guys are awesome. Seriously. Have some cake cause you're just that awesome. You don't need a diet, you're awesome. You could eat that whole damned cake. Your awesomeness would step in where your metabolism leaves off.

In related news, this story hit 400 reviews last chapter, which is great! Thanks to each and every one of you who helped with such a milestone!

Now, I own a feeling of extreme contempt for a worker at a local convenience store who felt the need to comment on my "giant bag of popcorn" to everyone, but I do not own Twilight. Stephanie Meyer, yo.

X

**EPOV**

In my dream, for whatever reason, Alice narrated a fairy tale. It was like the one that she had told me at Thanksgiving, but this time accompanied by lucid illustrations.

_"Once upon a time, there was a pair of travellers, a young boy and his mother. They blew from town to town like the wind, moving with the seasons, never staying in one place. The boy grew up detatched, impermanent, wonderfully free and induldged in his whims. He left behind him a path of destruction and heartbreak, unable to bond with or care about others._

_"The autumn of his seventeenth year they reached the western shore, to a kingdom ruled by a powerful but distant king and queen. In their absense they had promised their daughter, the lovely Princess Rose, to the son of a neighboring king, Prince Royce. Princess Rose as was beautiful as her namesake, but wild and fierce. This fierceness she wore like a mask, and no one saw that the soil from which she grew had been poisoned, and she was wilting from the inside out._

_"When the young traveller first arrived in the kingdom, he met the enigmatic Lady Alice. She was bred from nobility, but with her mother had fallen from the graces of court. She was loved greatly by Prince Jasper, however, and spent much of her time in the castle. Lady Alice took to the traveller quickly, but the same could not be said for the royal family. But the traveller, who had grown up without recognition of a king or anyone to answer to with lasting consequence, was not to be swayed._

_"And one evening as the sun began to set, the traveller heard a racket from the palace gardens. It was Prince Royce and Princess Rose, and the conversation seemed less than friendly. With no thought to station or properiety, the traveller stepped in and whisked Princess Rose away._

_"From that point the traveller was welcomed to court, and he was knighted and became the protector and companion of the princess. The details of the true nature of Prince Royce were disclosed, and the traveller swore to never let him poison the princess again. Before long, the traveller and the princess fell in love, and he took her to bed. But the king and queen, upon their return, were not happy about this development, and played their daughter back into the hands of the prince of the neighboring kingdom._

_"The soil from which she grew became tinged with the poison once more, and the traveller, in his distress, challenged the prince to a duel. The prince was defeated and retreated back to his kingdom. For awhile the court rejoiced, and eventually even the king and queen began to accept the traveller as a member of court, and peace fell over the kingdom._

_"But Prince Royce was a vengeful tyrant of a man, and as he sat on his throne he plotted and waited, until finally the moment arose for him to strike. As the princess began to heal, the poison diluting, he acted._

_"And the traveller had finally had all that he could take."_

I woke up more determined than ever to end this once and for all.

I wanted nothing more than to stay in bed. Well, almost nothing. Rosalie was curled up next to me, having snuck out of her house for the second night in a row. Her head was on my chest, and I was overwhelmed with that spicy scent of hers. I didn't want to wake her up. Well, I kind of did. I really did. But she hadn't been sleeping well and I really shouldn't.

The decision was taken from me after a few minutes anyway when the alarm went off. Rosalie stirred, reaching across me to grab her phone and silence the alarm. She sat up with a groan, running her fingers through her hair.

"Five o'clock in the morning is such an obnoxious time," she said, crawling over me and heading for the bathroom. She had been getting up at five to get back in her house before her parents woke up, usually around six. I watched the door shut before grabbing my own phone and scrolling through my contacts. I hit call.

"Hey," I said. "I need your help. I have an idea."

Because me wanting to wake Rosalie wasn't what you would think. I needed to get started on my plan to get to Royce.

X

"It's kind of inconvenient, being out of school at a time like this. I mean, it's like, what do you do in the meantime? You have to wait for him to get out of school," Jasper said, tossing a few boxes of white decorative lights into the shopping cart. He paused for a minute, surveying the display and then grabbed two more. "Christmas overstock - seventy-five percent off. Better make sure we get enough," he said in answer to my questioning look. "Anyway, I'm just saying, this is the sort of thing that works better on impulse. Having time to wait around just dulls the effect."

"Do you think it's going to work?" I asked, pushing the cart as Jasper moved on to the next aisle.

"It really depends on just how stupid Royce really is," he said, shrugging as he stopped in front of the extension cords. "I'd say it's a really good bet; he's an evil bastard but intelligence was never a boasted quality. I really hate safety orange. Why are all extension cords such an terrible color?"

He tossed a few of them into the cart anyway.

"Could you focus for a second?" I asked him. He sighed, rolling his eyes.

"Dude, what did I just say? This is going to work better on impulse. Don't worry about it. Try not to even think about it," he said. We left the hardware section and Jasper stopped in his tracks, staring at the sporting goods section. "Ah," was all he said before venturing down an aisle.

I followed him to find him standing in front of a long row of aluminum bats. He took a bright red one from the rack and gripped it tightly, stepping back with his back against the opposite shelf before swinging it hard. It cut through the air with an angry sigh and Jasper grinned.

"It's all about the impulse, man," he said, setting the bat in the cart. "Heat of passion is a defense in even the highest courts in the world. For the record, I'm buying this because I'm trying out for the baseball team next month. I'm a perfectly reasonable individual."

Call me crazy, but I wasn't completely reassured. The real question was whether I was altogether too concerned. Anyway, it had little to do with me. If Jasper took action on his own, it was his own issue. I had my own shit to worry about.

X

I was already waiting outside of Royce's house when he finally got home from school. I watched from the Jeep as he disappeared inside of his house. There was a car in the driveway already, so I figured that his parents were home. I gave it a few minutes. His mom was probably asking him how his day went. His dad was probably talking about whatever the fuck you talk to your kid about when they're a sociopathic rapist.

I gave it a few minutes, a few last minutes for him to think he had won. One last minute before he realized he was about to hit a fucking brick wall.

I finally rang the bell, and after a moment it opened. Royce looked for a second like he was going to slam the door in my face but I stuck my foot out, stopping it from closing.

"Hey, Royce, good to see you man," I said, stepping inside.

"What the fuck are you doing?" he hissed, looking taken aback that I had just invited myself into his house. I shrugged.

"I need to talk to you," I said. "Upstairs would probably be best. Might not be something for parents to hear," I added in a low voice. He hesitated. "Of course, if you don't mind, I don't."

"Fine. Come on," he said, leading the way upstairs. When we reached his room I was almost surprised to see how normal it looked. I had imagined, on some level, that someone like Royce would have an evil lair or a sex dungeon or something, but he must have gotten pretty skilled at hiding his true nature over the years. There was a bed, a desk with a computer, a bookshelf, a dresser, and a closet. The room was unnaturally neat, sports trophies and ribbons and books lined up just so. Other than that, there was nothing at all weird about it compared to other guys' rooms.

I noticed that some of the trophies were for baseball and I wondered if Jasper didn't have a plan after all. I mean, I had used a sport to get at him, right? And I didn't think I had ever heard Jasper mention playing baseball before today.

"Man, you really fucked yourself over, didn't you?" I started, turning to him and grinning like it was the best joke in the fucking world.

"What are you talking about?" he asked, sitting down on the edge of his bed. He was trying to act nonchalant, unconcerned, but he was a little too still, his jaw a little too tense.

"Well, before you posted that video, there was no lasting proof that you did anything wrong. But you just served it up on a silver platter. I mean, taping a rape is one thing, but publicly releasing it, that's really something," I said.

"I can't believe you still believe her. She was begging for it, you saw it," he sneered. My hands clenched, trying to ball into fists, but I forced myself to relax them.

"You and I both know you replaced the audio," I said. "Really, _Charlie's Anal_, I should have figured that would be in your tastes." Royce's smug expression flickered, just for a second. Bingo. Ben had called that shit. "I wonder what the police would think about that?"

"Like they're going to dig deeper into a story some lying whore comes up with to cover her sex tape being leaked," he scoffed. I shrugged, trying to keep the rage at bay. I had to play this cool or it wasn't going to work.

"Maybe not. But they take a very great interest in child pornography," I said.

"Fuck you, I'm not a fucking pedophile," he spat. I guess I touched a nerve. Even predators must have their limits, I guess.

"Well, no, you're not rubbing up on four-year-olds at the beach or trying to lure the neighbor's kid into your car with promises of candy, but make no mistake, in the eyes of the law, you willingly distributed child pornography," I said. "So like I said, you really fucked yourself over with this one."

Royce just glared at me. His jaw ticked, but he didn't offer a response. Time to go in for the kill.

"But the way I see it, Royce, you're pretty lucky - luckier than _you_ allow most people to be - because I'm going to give you three choices," I said, crossing my arms. Something about me standing that way seemed to intimidate most people. "First, you can maintain your story that the video is real and go to jail for distributing child pornography, since Rose was underage in the video. Second, you can admit that you altered the video and we can get the police involved to find or restore the original, and you can go to jail for rape." I paused, taking in the effect of these words. If it was bothering Royce, he wasn't showing it. I sat down, making sure to act causal. I wanted this last choice to appeal to him most.

"Finally, and this is where you get _really_ lucky, so pay attention, you can give me the original video. Every copy you have. I don't care if it's on a disc, or a memory card, or a flash drive. For good measure I'll also be taking your hard drive and camera. You will remove the video from the website, along with your story and any blogs or photos you have posted about Rosalie. You will stop talking about her. You will _never_ talk to her. You will disappear from her life so thoroughly that she'll wonder if you weren't just a terrible dream. If you can do all of that, you won't have to worry about jail time."

Royce glared at me, his jaw set, but didn't say anything.

"So what's it going to be, Royce?" I asked, narrowing my eyes.

"I'll think about it," he said, shrugging. I laughed.

"No, sorry, you're not _that_ lucky. I actually think I've been pretty nice so far. I mean, you didn't give Rose a choice, did you? You didn't let _her_ decide what happened to her. So really, given the circumstances, I shouldn't even let you pick. But see, I just want you gone. I don't actually care how it happens. So right now, which would you rather be: the child molester or the rapist? I don't think they're very nice to either one in prison. Well, unless you consider what you do nice. Is that it, Royce? Do you actually think you're an awesome guy? You're doing them some sort of favor? Because I don't doubt for a second that Rosalie isn't the only one. But I don't have time to white knight up for all of them. The police might if this comes out, though." I leaned back, spreading my hands as if physically motioning to the choices. "So what's it going to be?"

Royce muttered something unintelligible. I leaned forward, grinning at him.

"Sorry, man, I didn't quite catch that. What'd you say?" I asked. He glared at me.

"You can have the fucking video," he spat.

"Good," I said. I stood up, motioning to the computer chair. "Remove the video from the site and then I'll be taking your hard drive. I guarantee you can't delete the original thoroughly enough to prevent me from recovering it, so you might as well not try. While you're cleaning up your blog, I'm going to find every bit of removable storage in this house, as well as your camera, unless you'd like to make it easier and just give them to me."

Royce didn't answer as he sat down. I shrugged. I had figured that was the most cooperation I was going to get out of him.

I opened the top drawer of his dresser. Had to start somewhere.

X

**RPOV**

By the time I had said goodbye to my parents it was already getting dark. I let myself into Emmett's house through the back door, shushing Nanuq as she let out a string of booming barks. Ms. McCarty's car was gone, but I didn't need to alarm any of the other neighbors.

I headed up to Emmett's room and pulled _The Last Vampire_ from the shelf, planning to read until he got back from wherever he was. Jasper had gotten home hours ago, but Emmett hadn't been with him. Jasper wouldn't tell me where he had gone, and then had spent a few hours in the backyard hitting baseballs at the trees that lined the back fence. I hadn't bothered to ask about it. Jasper had never particularly enjoyed baseball, as far as I knew, but he was prone to odd whims. Plus, Alice played on the softball team each spring so it likely had something to do with her.

I couldn't focus on the book, though. My mind kept creeping back to Royce and the video. I still hadn't watched it. I couldn't bring myself to. I felt sick every time I even considered it. Besides, Emmett said it had been fake, so there was no real reason to.

But I had this sick curiosity, a need to know what everyone else had seen, real or not.

I sighed and stood up, going to Emmett's desk and his computer. I hit the power button and sat down, waiting for it to fire up Windows. The processor whirred and ticked, the power light flashing, and then the monitor blinked to life. I wondered how old the thing was. I remembered computers running like this in grade school tech class, but hadn't seen anything this rough since then.

The desktop finally loaded and I found the icon for Internet Explorer, double clicking it and then waiting again for it to load. My stomach was twisting around itself already. I wasn't sure that I wouldn't vomit as I typed in the address for Royce's blog, but to my surprise I managed it.

There was a pause while the page loaded, and then I scrolled down. Nothing for Monday's date. Nothing for the day before. Or the day before that. I went back three whole months just to be sure before slumping back in the chair.

It was gone. The whole entry: text, photos, video. All gone.

I jumped as the door to Emmett's room opened and closed the window quickly. Emmett hadn't wanted to see the video, and I felt guilty for using his computer to even try to find it.

"Hey," I said. "You're home late. What have you been up to?"

"Oh, just some stuff. Took longer than was strictly necessary. Ran into some cooperation issues," he said, shrugging and setting the box down on his desk.

"Why are you being weird?" I asked.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, you're being like... really vague. Talking in fragments. That sort of stuff. And what's in the box?" I asked, walking over and reaching out to open it. Emmett beat me to it, snatching the box away. I raised an eyebrow at him.

"Okay, I promise you can see what's in the box, but just... not now," he said.

"Oh," I said, it all starting to click in my head. "Is it my Valentine's present?"

"Uh... sort of," he said. "It's not the conventional type of Valentine's gift, but I think you're going to like it. Well, you're not going to like it in itself, but you're going to like what it means."

"You're not really talking this gift up very well," I said. Emmett nodded. "Okay," I said after a moment of awkward silence. "So what did you do today?"

"That's, um... Mostly just dealt with this," he said. I nodded. I cast around for a conversation that wouldn't land back on the mystery box.

"Mom and Dad left," I said finally. "They won't be back for about five weeks, although they said they would do their best to get back sooner if we needed them."

"So no one's going to be enforcing curfew, and we're out of school for the rest of the week at least, and my mom's working night shift on the regular?" he asked. I nodded, grinning. "Any ideas as to how we could spend that kind of time?"

"A few, if you're up to it," I said, smirking at him.

X

**AN**: I hadn't originally meant for the Valentine's story to span across so many chapters. But then, you know, Royce had to rear his ugly head and shot that all to hell. Anyway, I hope you liked it. I have the most fun writing bittersweet tales, so I had a lot of fun with it.

Valentines is a week from today, by the way! I hope you all have an excellent one! Take the opportunity to show your loved one how much you care. And if you are spending Valentines alone this year, like me, don't worry, you just haven't found anyone worthy of you yet. Or, you know, your husband is somewhere off the coast of Thialand and you haven't been able to get in touch with him in three weeks. It's probably one or the other.

I'd love to hear from each and every one of you! All reviews will recieve a preview for the next chapter. Remember if you're an unregistered user you'll have to leave me an email address or email me first to get it - annanocturnal at gmail dot com.


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